Fated
by Circe la Fay
Summary: When your destiny controls the fate of the entire world, everyone you meet will be affected. Even those you least expect...
1. The First Meeting

**The First Meeting**

Harry rolled over to look at the clock by his bed. The luminous hands read quarter to two. Sighing, Harry got up and began to drag on some clothes. It seemed that tonight, like most other nights, sleep was not going to come to him. He looked at the street below, bathed in the yellow glow coming from the streetlights. Nodding decisively, he moved towards the window and opened it. Pushing himself up onto the sill, he swung his legs over until his feet were resting on the Dursleys' flat roof. Then, careful not to make a sound, Harry reached over to the drainpipe and carefully felt for a foothold before allowing himself to slide down. Reaching the ground, he looked up at the open window, the curtain now flapping in the night air, and then turned away from the house and walked through the front garden onto the pavement.

Although it was only the middle of July, Harry was already itching to leave the Dursleys'. Dumbledore's revelation before the end of term had made him realise just how important staying there was, but that didn't stop him wishing that he was with Ron and Hermione. Eager to make up for the previous summer, the Order had agreed that Harry could come to Grimmauld Place towards the end of July, meaning that he would have to spend much less time with the Dursleys than usual. Despite this, Harry was still counting the days before he would be back at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry wasn't only missing his two best friends, however. The memory of Sirius' death was crushing him and he had started to have terrible nightmares. This was why he was now walking along Privet Drive at midnight. His late night walks gave him a chance to think, and in Harry's opinion, the less sleeping he did the better. Aware of the danger he was in due to Voldemort's return, Harry always had one hand on his wand. However, the freedom he experienced at night was worth facing a million Death Eaters.

Normally, Harry would sit in the empty park for a while before returning to Number Four. Making his way up Wisteria Walk, however, he became aware of a muffled whimpering sound. Harry froze. A large part of him wanted to turn around and run back to Privet Drive, but he knew that if anything was after him, he would have to face it at some point. Gripping his wand, he cautiously turned onto Magnolia Crescent. Sitting on a wall with her head in her hands was a teenage girl. Harry felt such a wave of relief that he almost laughed out loud. Looking up, the girl saw him and stood up in alarm. Her eyes wide with fear, she tried to back away, missed her footing and tripped over the low wall, landing hard on the gravel drive.

Harry looked down at himself. He was wearing Dudley's old T-shirt and jeans, both of which were none too clean, and threadbare trainers. He didn't need a mirror to tell him that his normally messy hair was all over the place, as he hadn't combed it in several days. _I wouldn't want to bump into me on a dark night either_, he thought. Hurrying over to the girl, who was still lying where she had fallen, he crouched down beside her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The girl groaned and shook her head.

Harry stretched out a hand to help her up. Slightly dazed, she sat on the wall, inspecting her grazed elbows. Harry sat beside her. She turned to him.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Harry."

The girl seemed to find this mildly amusing. "I'm Sally," she said, by way of explanation.

Harry looked at her, confused.

"As in 'When Harry met Sally'," the girl clarified.

Harry laughed politely. Looking him up and down, Sally frowned.

"Harry?" she asked, as if trying to work something out, "Harry Potter?"

Harry stared at her. Although he was used to being recognised in the wizarding world, few Muggles even acknowledged his existence, much less knew him on sight.

"Yes, I am," he replied cautiously.

"Dudley's cousin?"

_Ah, that explains it,_ thought Harry, preparing for her to run away as he answered in the affirmative. Sally, however, remained seated, just looking at him.

"You're not…you don't…never mind," she said, shaking her head.

Harry decided to change the subject.

"So what are you doing out here at two am?"

Sally laughed. "I'm locked out."

Harry looked at her, puzzled. "Why don't your parents let you in?"

Sally laughed again, more quietly this time. "They don't exactly know I'm out. The plan was to leave the back gate open and sneak in. Unfortunately my parents, in their wisdom, seem to have locked it again. They are going to kill me in the morning."

"Why don't you just climb over the back gate?"

"Unfortunately," said Sally, dripping with sarcasm, "I seem to have left my pole vaulting pole inside. Or maybe I should just take a running leap and do a somersault over the gate. In fact, while I'm there I'll do a couple of cartwheels along the top and just…"

"Alright, alright," said Harry, laughing. "I get your point. Although…"

Getting up, Harry walked up the path to the gate and looked at it. Reaching up on his toes, he was just about able to wrap his fingers around the top of it. With all his strength, he pulled himself up and scrambled up the gate until he was sitting on the top. With a single movement he landed in the back garden, and opened the gate from the inside.

Sally stood on the other side of the gateway looking impressed.

"I stand corrected," she said, smiling. "You have fantastic balance, anyone else would have fallen off."

Harry grinned. "I've had a lot of practice," he said, thinking of the amount of times he had hung off his broom to catch the Snitch.

"Well thank you," said Sally, entering the back garden.

"Not a problem," said Harry.

"See you soon," said Sally, waving and shutting the back gate.

For the first time since arriving at Privet Drive, Harry smiled all the way back to Number Four.


	2. Misunderstandings

Misunderstandings

Harry sat at the top of the stairs, watching through the gap in the banisters. On the doorstep stood Sally, with a 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' expression on her face.

"Hello," said Aunt Petunia, who had answered the door.

Sally beamed at her. "Good morning, Mrs Dursley," she said enthusiastically, not breaking the smile. Harry stuffed the end of his T-shirt into his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

Petunia looked Sally up and down. "Oh, you're Sally Mason, aren't you? Susan's little girl."

Harry knew that Sally would be affronted to be called anyone's 'little girl', but she merely nodded, still beaming.

Reassured that she was now talking to the 'right sort' of person, Petunia's entire attitude changed. She smiled, putting on the patronising drawl she usually reserved for Dudley and his friends. "Oh well, come in, come in," she said, ushering a still smiling Sally through to the living room.

Harry scrambled down the stairs, eager to see how the scene would pan out.

Sally, now perched on a plush armchair, was listening to Petunia's long spiel about how Sally used to come over when she was two and play in Dudley's paddling pool. Sally nodded and added a 'Really?' whenever appropriate. Finally, as Sally's expression was becoming slightly glazed, Petunia said 'But of course, you must be here to see Dudley. I'll go get him shall I?"

"Actually," said Sally, stopping Mrs Dursley in her tracks, "I'm here to see Harry."

Petunia could not have looked more surprised if Sally had suddenly produced a troupe of dancing leprechauns. She turned to Sally, slowly. "Harry?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," replied Sally, her fixed smile becoming one of genuine amusement. Before Petunia could say anything, Harry entered the room.

"Hi Sally," he said, grinning wryly. "You ready to go?"

Sally rose from her chair. "Yes, I think so." She turned to Petunia, who was still looking gobsmacked. "It was lovely to see you Mrs Dursley," she said.

As Harry and Sally left the house, both collapsed into fits of hysterical laughter. "The look on her face!" gasped Harry. He looked up. Sally wasn't laughing any more. She was looking at him with an odd expression on her face.

"There weren't any pictures of you in the house," she said quietly.

Harry stopped walking. Although she didn't elaborate, he knew exactly what she meant. Aware that she knew his relatives, Harry had tried to pass off the Dursleys' dislike for him as a running joke, not willing to discuss the details of his family life. But today, for the first time, she had had a small glimpse of the contempt with which Harry was held at Privet Drive.

Sally smiled at him sadly. "Let's go to the park," she said, ending the discussion, to Harry's visible relief.

* * *

A few days later, Harry and Sally decided to have a small picnic in Sally's back garden – mainly so that Sally could try cooking and Harry could come up with new and ingenious ways of pretending to eat it. 

"So you're going to have to come over the day after tomorrow," said Sally, eating the chocolate icing off a burnt fairy cake, "because it's my…"

"I won't be here the day after tomorrow," interrupted Harry. "I'm going away tomorrow."

"Oh," said Sally, disappointed. "Well I'll see you when you get back then. Lucky for some, going on holiday."

Harry took a deep breath. He had been anticipating this. "Actually, I won't be back for a while. I probably won't see you for ages."

Sally's face fell. "Oh," she said again, looking downcast. "Well give me the address of where you're going. I'll write to you."

"Actually," said Harry, looking uncomfortable, "I can't really give you an address."

"What? Why?"

"Um…" Harry fished for an explanation. "It's…it's to do with my school…"

Sally narrowed her eyes. "You mean that place for the criminally insane?"

"NO!" said Harry, emphatically. "Do I look criminally insane?"

Sally laughed. "Well I did wonder…"

Harry punched her lightly on the arm. "Well I'm not. I don't go there. I go to…a boarding school. It's really remote. That's why we can't…get…post," he finished lamely.

Sally looked at him sceptically. Harry didn't blame her. It was probably the worst excuse he had ever come up with – and that included telling Filch that he needed to carry Dungbombs to use in Herbology.

Suddenly Harry had an idea. He got to his feet and stretched out his hand to help Sally up.

"Come with me," he said. "I want to show you something."

Sally looked at him anxiously. "Why?"

"Just come with me."

* * *

Sally gasped. 

"It's beautiful! Can I stroke it?"

"It's a she," said Harry, carefully placing Hedwig on Sally's outstretched arm. Once he was sure that Sally was secure with the owl, he sat down next to her on the bed.

"Now this owl…my owl …well, she's very well trained. I mean…she can…she knows…" Harry trailed off. Listening to himself he now realised how ludicrous the idea of owl post would sound to a Muggle.

Sally looked at him expectantly. Sighing, Harry tried again.

"If you tie letters to her leg, I'll get them. I mean, she'll fly them to me. I mean…"

Sally nodded slowly. "Right," she said, looking slightly bemused. Looking around the room, Sally caught sight of Harry's school trunk.

"That's so cool!" She reached towards it. "What's inside it?"

"NO!" shouted Harry, smacking her arm away from it.

Sally looked at him, her eyes wide with alarm. Hurriedly she rose from the bed.

"Um, I have to go now, I'll catch up with you soon, okay?" she said quickly, as she left the room.

Harry stood up to go after her, but she had already gone. Groaning, he flopped back down on the bed.

_Well that went well_, he thought.


	3. Grimmauld Place

**Grimmauld Place**

Disclaimer: Funnily enough, Harry Potter was not my idea. I am a complete plagiarist. Sally is mine, however, (although she is loosely based on a character that Arlonyei and I came up with a couple of years ago.)

A/N: Firstly, I would like to thank all you lovely people who reviewed! I scour my emails every day now. There is an explanation for why Sally stormed out, not a brilliant one, but a reason nonetheless. You'll have to wait and see…RhondaSpev, I agree with you that chapter 2 was a bit over dramatic, hopefully this one is less so.

"Harry? Harry? Don't fall asleep over there!"

Harry lifted his head and saw Tonks carefully making her way to his side of the strict formation that they were flying in. Pulling in beside Harry, she began to fly in sync with him.

"Why the long face?" she asked, elongating her own face until she had sunken eyes and cheeks, and a long gnarled chin.

Normally Tonks' facial antics amused Harry, but right now he was too busy thinking about Sally.

He had contemplated running after her, but the arrival of Moody, Tonks, Lupin and Mudungus Fletcher had caused chaos at Number Four Privet Drive and Harry had been all too glad to leave.

It wasn't until they were approaching London that Harry had begun to feel twinges of guilt. Although he wasn't completely sure what he had done wrong, he knew that leaving had made it about ten times worse. He tried to tell himself that he was doing the right thing, that a friendship between a Muggle and a wizard would never have worked, but a small voice in his head kept saying _"You've just lost the best thing that's happened to you in ages."_

Tonks poked Harry with her index finger.

"S'matter?" she asked once again, squinting at him as the wind rushed past her face.

Unwilling to tell her the truth, Harry shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. "I'm fine. Just tired I suppose."

Tonks looked at him sceptically, but before she could say anything, Moody called out "Nymphadora! If you insist on falling out of formation, I will have to report you missing in action." Tonks winked at Harry and then flew off, muttering "Bloody magical eye…"

* * *

As they approached Grimmauld Place, Harry realised just how much everything reminded him of Sirius. Unable to control himself he made a quick landing and, dropping his broom, dug his fists into his eyes, willing himself not to cry. 

After a few seconds he became aware of someone else landing behind him. Turning around, he saw Lupin standing behind him, his eyes also glittering with tears. Consumed by his own grief, Harry hadn't realised how much Sirius' death had affected everyone else, especially Lupin who had now lost his three best friends to Voldemort. Without saying a word, Harry reached out for Lupin's hand and held it tightly.

Tonks and Moody soon joined them and then strode on ahead, leaving Harry and Lupin alone together. Reaching into his pocket, Lupin pulled out a bar of Honeydukes chocolate and handed a piece to Harry, who took it gratefully.

Looking into his eyes, Harry could see that Lupin's already pale face seemed even paler, and a fine layer of stubble was forming on his drawn cheeks. As they approached the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, both Harry and Lupin hung back, so that they could gather their emotions before entering.

* * *

Within a few minutes, Harry had been descended upon by the entire Weasley clan; Ron "Hey mate, good to see you", Fred and George "Harry, looking beautiful as usual", Mrs Weasley "Oh honestly, haven't they been feeding you? Growing boy like you needs proper food…and if you haven't grown a foot since we last saw you…"and even Bill, who was visiting on business for the Order. 

Despite this, however, some people were obviously missing.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Ron, once Mrs Weasley had finally stopped fussing over him. "She's gone to Diagon Alley with Ginny and…" Ron grimaced and dropped his voice "Dean."

Harry frowned, puzzled. Hermione never went to Diagon Alley by herself. "Why?" he asked. Ron's ears turned pink, and he looked at the ground, mumbling "She just needed to…you know…get something…"

Obviously uncomfortable, he quickly changed the subject. "You haven't seen our new room, its great, much better than last summer; I've put Chudley Cannons all over the place…"

Later on, while Ron and Harry were in the middle of a game of wizard chess, Hermione burst into the boys' room, flushed and panting. "Ron, I got the…"

She stopped, suddenly spotting Harry. "You weren't supposed to get here until later!" she exclaimed, rushing over to give him a hug.

Harry laughed, returning the hug. "Moody insisted that we start flying last night, in case of attack. You got the what?"

Hermione became as visibly uncomfortable as Ron had been not so long ago. "The…the quill I needed…" she replied.

Raising one eyebrow, Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, and then returned to the game, sighing. "Knight to F1."

* * *

Harry lay awake, listening to Ron's slow even breathing. Once again, he couldn't sleep. The house held so many memories of Sirius, too many memories. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sirius falling…_falling…_

Harry got out of bed and, being careful not to wake Ron, opened the window. He almost climbed out of it, but remembered just in time that he was in central London, not Little Whinging.

Reaching forward to pull the window shut, he caught sight of a flash of white on the horizon. As it drew nearer, he could see that it was Hedwig, returning from her nightly hunt. Grateful to see his faithful familiar, Harry crossed the room to open her cage.

As she flew in, however, Hedwig began to make small circles around his head, hooting softly. Looking closer, Harry could see a small package wrapped in silver paper tied to her leg. Once she had made a soft landing on his bed, Harry carefully untied the package and brought it close to his face.

On the label, written in large curly script were the words:

_Love Sal_

_xxx_

_P.S. Don't cheat, leave it until tomorrow._


	4. 31st of July

**31st of July**

Harry awoke to the sound of Ron having a shower. Groping for his glasses, he sat up in bed, savouring the knowledge that he could lie in for as long as he wanted, something unheard of at the Dursleys'.

The thought of Privet Drive brought his mind back round to Sally, and little silver package. After holding it for a long time, Harry had left it unopened the previous night, deciding to follow the instructions on the label and wait until his birthday.

_Birthday…_Harry leapt out of bed. In all the confusion, Harry had completely forgotten that this year he would be spending this birthday with people who actually cared.

Beaming, he began to rummage through his trunk to find something to wear. As he pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Ron emerged from the shower, his flaming red hair now plastered to his head. Walking towards the doorway, he turned to Harry.

"Morning, thought you would never wake up. Mum says breakfast's almost ready, so I'd hurry up if I were you."

With that, Ron disappeared, and Harry heard him noisily make his way downstairs.

Harry sat down on his bed, half dressed. In four years, Ron had never forgotten his birthday. Once he had finished putting on his clothes, Harry wandered downstairs as slowly as possible, hoping that someone would bump into him on the stairs and wish him a happy birthday.

Finally reaching the kitchen, Harry walked smack into Hermione, who was reading the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning Hermione, lovely day isn't it?" Harry said, desperately trying to jog her memory.

"Mmm" replied Hermione, without even looking up.

Moving through to the dining room, Harry looked for any sign that his sixteenth birthday had been acknowledged. Apart from the customary greetings, however, no one paid much attention to Harry at all.

* * *

Once he had bolted his breakfast, Harry announced loudly that he was returning to his room, throwing a beseeching look at Mrs Weasley. Sure enough, as he turned to leave, Mrs Weasley called out, 

"Oh Harry dear, I almost forgot…"

Harry turned round, smirking at how the others would react when she pointed out it was his birthday.

"Yeeees?"

"I washed and ironed those robes you left out, they're in the corridor."

"Thanks," Harry muttered darkly, as way of reply.

Having reached his room, Harry threw himself on his bed and hurled a pillow at the wall. Ron and Hermione had never forgotten his birthday before! As for the rest of them…well…_Sirius would have remembered_…Harry pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

"If they've forgotten my birthday, then I won't remind them," he muttered to himself. "They'll feel so guilty when they realise. It's not as if I'm not used to it, I mean for God's sake, the Dursley's never gave me so much as a…" There was a knock at the door.

"Harry? Harry?" Ron called, without entering.

"What?" Harry shouted back, trying to sound as annoyed as possible.

"Mum wants us to go and get some Doxycide, she's all out."

_Fantastic,_ thought Harry, prising himself of the bed. _Fanbloodytastic. Next they'll want me to de-gnome the sodding garden._

* * *

After Ron, Hermione and Harry had trawled several different shops to find a specific brand of Doxycide and had gone to Diagon Alley so that Hermione, who seemed to have developed a quill fetish, could stop at Flourish and Blotts; Ron suggested that they all go toThe Leaky Cauldronfor a Butterbeer. 

_Maybe someone in there will remember its my birthday, _Harry thought bitterly. As they entered, however, he noticed that the normally bustling pub was completely silent. Obviously making the same observation, Hermione suggested that they check if people were in the back.

"Yes, yes! The back! Let's go there!" added Ron in a slightly monotonous voice, nodding frantically.

Too tired and depressed to care, Harry allowed himself to be lead to the large ornate room at the back of the pub.

As he opened the door, he was struck by a blaze of light.

Once he was able to focus, he saw that the room had been transformed. Glittering 16s whizzed over the walls, from one side of the room to the other. The ceiling had been spelled to show the night sky, ablaze with fireworks. In the middle of the room stood a four-tier, red and gold cake, each tier with four gold candles twinkling away.

Looking from one side of the room to the other, Harry could see the entire Order of the Phoenix, most of Gryffindor House and some people from other houses, including a few he didn't recognise.

Unsure what to say or do, Harry stood, staring at the room, not moving. Laughing at the expression on his face, Hermione reached up and gave him a kiss.

"Happy birthday Harry."

* * *

A/N I know, I know pretty predictable. Sorry for the long gap, my teachers have been setting sadistic amounts of work recently. Rest assured, the next chapter will be longer. Especially if you review… 


	5. Godric's Hollow

**Godric's Hollow**

"Open ours, open ours!"

Harry let out a yelp of surprise as Ron and Hermione dumped a large, heavy beribboned box in his lap. To his slight alarm, it seemed to be moving. Cautiously, Harry began to remove the wrapping paper.

Inside was a large black box which, now the ribbons and paper had been removed, was definitely juddering. Harry turned to his two best friends, who were now grinning at him encouragingly, shrugged, and then lifted the lid.

"WOW!" exclaimed Harry, almost knocking the box off his lap.

Curious, several people gathered around Harry to see what the box contained. Inside were two Bludgers, straining against their tethers, a Quaffle and a Golden Snitch.

Hermione, who had until this moment been dancing on her toes, leaned forward tentatively.

"Do you like it? I mean is it okay? I mean, we thought…well you don't have your own and you didn't play all term and…and…"

Putting down the Quidditch set, Harry rose from his chair and hugged both Ron and Hermione simultaneously.

"It's brilliant. It's absolutely brilliant," he said, once he had let them go.

"Yeah, well it's a miracle you didn't find out about it sooner," said Ron, looking pointedly at Hermione. "I just had to go down to Diagon Alley to…um…get some…um…quills…"

Hermione sniffed. "That was a poor imitation of me, Ron. Besides, you weren't exactly subtle either Mr. 'OH LET'S GO INTO THE BACK NOW.' I mean if Harry wasn't being so moody about us forgetting his birthday he would have guessed straight away."

Harry shook his head. "Don't you drag me into this you two. You're both useless, how about that?"

Everyone laughed as Harry quickly ducked to dodge blows coming from both directions.

* * *

"What do you think?" asked Harry, turning on the spot so that everyone could see the dragon skin coat that he had received from the twins.

Hermione sighed.

"You want the truth?"

"Yes"

"You look like a pimp."

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice. Rolling his eyes, Harry shrugged off the coat as Fred and George left the room pretending to be highly offended.

"Where's Ginny?" asked Ron, frowning. "How long does it take to say goodbye to Dean?"

"I think it's sweet" said Hermione.

Ron stood up. "Don't you think its weird, someone in our year going out with a fifteen-year-old?"

"Not really," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I mean, loads of the guys in our year fancy Ginny."

"Such as?"

Hermione began to tick them off on her fingers. "Well…Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan…"

"Okay Hermione," muttered Ron through gritted teeth.

"Terry Boot…"

"Hermione…"

"Neville…"

"FINE HERMIONE, FINE I BELIEVE YOU!"

Ron sat down and began scowling at Ginny who had just re-entered the room. Ignoring her brother, she went over to sit between Harry and Hermione.

"So Harry," she said "what did you think of the party?"

"It was fantastic," replied Harry, grinning. "I used to envy Dudley so much when I was younger, he used to have huge birthday parties – most of which involved playing 'Pin the Tail on Harry'. The Dursleys barely acknowledged my birthday, so this is my very first party."

"Not true."

Everyone turned round to see Remus Lupin enter the room carrying a large stone bowl full of silvery mist.

"You did have one birthday party," he continued, setting down the bowl on the table. "Your first."

* * *

Harry peered into the Pensieve. As the gaseous liquid swirled, he caught glimpses of a large rustic dining room - which he assumed was the dining room in the farmhouse which his parents had been using as a hiding place.

"We've put lots of different people's memories in there," said Lupin. "So it should be pretty clear."

"Lots of different people?" asked Harry.

Lupin laughed. "The first birthday of James Potter's son? None of us would have missed it! Me, Professor Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Dung-we were all there."

"Lily would 'ave killed us if we 'adnt bin," added Hagrid.

"As I remember," said Dumbledore, chuckling, "Lily Potter had a temper to rival that of Molly Weasley!"

Everyone laughed at this, especially the Weasley children. Rising from his chair, Dumbledore moved towards Harry and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You don't have to look at it if you don't want to," he said, looking at Harry over his half moon spectacles. "But if you do, its there."

Nodding, he left the room, followed by Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, and finally, Hagrid and Lupin. Harry was left alone.

Slightly nonplussed, Harry stood in front of the Pensieve. He knew that it wouldn't necessarily show him what he wanted to see. After his experiences in Snape's office, he wasn't sure if he wanted anything else to ruin his image of his parents, and yet he had so little of them that he wanted desperately to have something to hold on to.

Taking a deep breath, Harry dipped his head into the Pensieve.

* * *

From the level of noise, Harry could tell that this was definitely a toddler's birthday party. The room was strewn with streamers and balloons, and in the middle stood a table piled high with Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizzbees and about twelve other types of confectionary that Harry didn't even recognise.

Seated around the table were several witches and wizards, including Albus Dumbledore, a much younger looking Remus Lupin and a pretty red-haired woman that could only be Lily Potter. They were all laughing at something that a wizard Harry recognised as Mundungus Fletcher had just said.

The laughter was suddenly interrupted by the entrance of several one and two year olds, all chasing after a large, slow-moving, Golden Snitch.

"That was his present from his father" said Lily, sighing. "I swear, James will have a heart attack if Harry decides to be a Chaser."

"What if he doesn't want to play Quidditch at all?" asked a plump, fair-haired witch.

Remus laughed. "I think that's genetically impossible – James Potter's son not being stuck to a broom."

Meanwhile, a small battle was ensuing on the floor between baby Harry and the Golden Snitch. Harry laughed at his own fruitless attempts to stop the flying ball, thinking of Hogwarts Quidditch matches.

Finally, the toddler managed to grab onto one wing, but not before another boy had taken the other. There was a short tug of war, which ended with little Harry sitting on the floor looking bewildered.

The other boy scuttled from the room, dragging the Snitch behind him. Seeing this, a short witch with dark hair leapt from her seat and ran after him, shouting "Neville, Neville come back!"

_Neville?_ thought Harry, amazed. He couldn't remember Neville ever having put up a fight for anything, and the little boy who had just run from the room didn't have the constant apologetic air about him that everyone associated with Neville Longbottom.

A large man let out a deep, throaty laugh. "That's Alice for you," he said. "One of the best Aurors in the country and a boy who's barely a year old has her wrapped round his little finger."

Lily nodded. "We're exactly the same with Harry. It doesn't help that he has the same adorable grin as James – I let those two get away with murder!"

Alice Longbottom returned carrying a repentant looking Neville. "Take him, will you Frank?" she said, handing him to his father. "Honestly, I think your mother is right sometimes – I am too soft with him."

Frank raised his hand to his mouth in mock surprise. "Did you just say…_your mother is right_?"

Before Alice could answer, the door to the dining room burst open. In the doorway stood two dark haired men.

Baby Harry, who until this point had been sitting where Neville had left him, let out a squeal of delight and proceeded to crawl towards the taller of the two men, shouting "Foo',foo'!"

Sirius picked Harry up and tickled him, making him chortle. "I hope he learns how to say Pad soon, I don't want to be Foot for the rest of my life!"

James came round from behind him, holding a long package. "Well it's better than Serious Sirius" he said.

Sirius grimaced at the sound of his first-year nickname.

"Where have you been James?" asked Lily, getting up to kiss him. Without answering, James waved the package in the air. Lily shook her head.

"I told you not to, he's too young," she said.

"I had to Lils, I couldn't resist it," he replied, grinning.

Putting the package down on the floor, James took his son from Sirius. Sitting with baby Harry in his lap, he helped the child rip the Quidditch wrapping paper from his latest present. Inside the package was a shiny, new toy broom.

As Harry moved forward to look at the broom, the room began to spin…

* * *

Once the room came to a standstill, Harry looked around. He was in a nursery. From the Winnie the Pooh frieze on the walls, Harry could tell that Lily's Muggle upbringing had greatly contributed to the decorating of her son's bedroom.

Lily was standing in the middle of the nursery, next to a large wooden cot, softly singing to baby Harry who was lying asleep.

_Lavender's blue, dilly dilly,_

_Lavender's green,_

_When I am king, dilly dilly,_

_You can be queen._

"Surely that should be the other way round?" Lily turned round to see Remus Lupin standing in the doorway, smiling.

"Well, Harry likes it," said Lily, turning back to the cot. "I wish he could stay like this forever," she continued, gently stroking her baby's forehead.

"With everything that's going on and the moment, the war and…I just hope nothing happens to him." said Remus, looking sombre.

Lily moved away from the cot. "Nothing will ever happen to him Remus," she said firmly. "I wouldn't let it." She turned and looked Remus full in the face.

"I would die for him."

* * *

A/N Sorry for the delay but as promised this chapter is longer! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and I have sorted out the problems with chapter breaks and dialogue so hopefully this chapter is easier to read! 


	6. The Knife

**The Knife**

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry, Hermione and all the Weasley children carried on with the party. It wasn't until about one a.m. that Harry managed to drag himself up to his bedroom, much to the disappointment of Fred and George who had wanted to take him to a strip club on Knockturn Alley.

Falling into bed, Harry suddenly remembered that he had left one present unopened. With a groan he got up again and rummaged around until he unearthed the little silver package, and then quickly unwrapped it. Inside was a letter wrapped around what seemed to be a long sharp dagger. Slightly confused, Harry unrolled the letter and started to read it.

* * *

_So,_ it began, _there may be a slight chance I overreacted a bit._

Harry laughed. That was Sal all over, straight to the point.

_It wasn't until later on that I realised just howimmature I had been. I shouldn't have just walked out. To be fair, I did come back to your house later to…well, to accept your apology, admittedly, but you had already left. _

_The thing is, it sounds terrible (especially when I write it down), but I was getting a bit worried about you. Dudley had been telling me for ages that you were teetering on the brink of insanity – yes I am aware that he is the world's biggest prat, but still._

_Not to mention the fact that Petunia came round the other day to have a 'little chat' with my mum, and just dropped in that the school for the criminally insane was doing wonders for you but that you did have occasional relapses._

_I'm not saying I believed her, because I didn't. But then when you said you were going away and you wouldn't tell me where, and you introduced the owl into the equation (which is strange you have to admit); by the time you grabbed my arm there was a little alarm bell going off in my head saying 'Psycho! Psycho! Run for the hills!' _

_So I did. I don't know why – maybe I've been watching too many Hitchcock films._

_Funnily enough, I was sitting in my room thinking about what happened when your owl turned up outside my window._

Harry looked up at Hedwig, who was now sitting on her perch, eyeing him lazily. He was reminded of the time, just before his thirteenth birthday, when Hedwig had flown backwards and forwards to Ron and Hermione to make sure that they sent cards and presents.

He grinned at her, making a mental note to buy some owl treats when he was next in Diagon Alley.

_Your owl is gorgeous, by the way _the letter continued. _I had meant to give you your present before you left, so I just sent it._

_I should explain the present. Do you recognise it? When we went to that little shop in the village, I noticed that you kept picking it up and playing with it. So I got it for you. I think it's a letter opener. _

_Ah well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. It's probably highly illegal._

Harry put down the letter and picked up the knife. Suddenly he remembered.

A few days previously, Harry and Sally had gone into the centre of Little Whinging - a shopping district consisting of a small supermarket, a post office, a wool shop and a very out of place antiques shop.

In the antiques shop, Harry had been curiously drawn to a long, thin dagger with a golden hilt, which on closer observation seemed to be a miniature version of the sword of Godric Gryffindor that Harry had pulled out of the sorting hat in his second year.

At the time, he had been so surprised that he had spent several minutes holding it up to the light before putting it back again.

And now it was here.

Lightly running his fingers over the flat of the blade, Harry began to read the letter again.

_Anyway, that pretty little owl of yours is welcome here any time. I still don't understand why we can't use good old Royal Mail or – if we're being really technologically advanced – the telephone, but I'm not going to let it bother me._

_Love Sal_

_xxx_

Harry put down the letter, and dropping to his knees began to rummage through his trunk for some parchment and a quill.

Sleep, he decided, would have to wait.

* * *

"Hedwig must be exhausted, the amount of letters you've been sending to that muggle girl," said Ron crossly, as the snowy owl dropped yet another envelope into Harry's lap.

"Are you kidding?" replied Harry, ripping it open, "She gets spoiled so much at Sal's I swear she's gaining weight."

Hermione came into the garden where the boys were sitting; carrying a tray bearing three glasses of lemonade. As she put the tray down on the ground, she caught sight of the letter in Harry's hand.

"Another letter from her?" she said, with just a hint of jealousy.

Harry nodded, and quickly put the letter in his pocket.

Although she never would have admitted it, as Harry's only female friend, Hermione was beginning to feel slightly usurped. It was in fact Sally who had suggested to Harry that he might want to be a bit more discreet.

Sensing the tension, Ron quickly changed the subject. Hermione, however, remained visibly tense for quite a while.

* * *

Sally sat up in bed. Straining to see in the darkness, she listened carefully, and felt a sudden chill run down her spine. She was almost certain she could hear breathing.

Heart hammering, she slid out of bed, trying desperately to move as quietly as possible towards the door. The breathing was getting louder.

_Only five steps to the door,_ she told herself. _Four, three, two…_ A hand shot out of the shadows and grabbed her hair. Before she could scream, a flash of red light pierced the darkness.

She was unconscious before she hit the floor.

* * *

A/N: Firstly I would like to thank all my lovely reviewers, especially Star 19 and Fictionair. Also thank you to my semi betas juno malabre (who listens patiently to my ideas before i write them down) and fippets (who reads over my shoulder and laughs at my spelling mistakes.) Both of them are much better than me so read their fics (after reviewing mine of course)! Juno malabre has a particularly good new one call stockholm syndrome. Anyway, end of plug... 

Those of you who read regularly (yay!) will notice that the title has changed. The original title was actually meant to be the title of the first chapter but I accidentally put it in the wrong box and...well its all sorted now. Also I have overhauled all the previous chapters so (fingers crossed) they should be easier to read and make slightly more sense...


	7. Disappeared

**Disappeared**

Harry was striding purposefully down a long stone corridor; his eyes fixed straight ahead, his long robes billowing behind him. For the first time in many years, he felt…not happy; that was too simplistic to describe the pure, unadulterated ecstasy he could feel flowing through his veins. He was in control, his own power so great that he was almost in awe of it.

He stopped, turned to a large wooden door and opened it slowly.

The door lead to a richly furnished room, the walls decorated with tapestries and the floor strewn with brightly coloured rugs. In the middle of the room was a large, four poster bed, on which sat a dark-haired girl.

She had her knees drawn to her chest, and was staring out of the window. Although her jaw was set, Harry noted with satisfaction that her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

"I trust you are feeling better," said Harry, silkily.

Without looking at him, the girl replied "Tell your…people to stay away from me."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" he said, moving closer to the bed.

The girl's eyes flicked over to him, momentarily, and then went back to staring out of the window. "Tell your people to stay away from me – please," she muttered, the last word through gritted teeth.

Harry flexed his fingers, eager to take out his wand and show this brat who she was dealing with. Instead, however, he reminded himself to exercise self control and smiled.

"That's better," he said.

The girl looked up and stared him full in the face. Harry was surprised and angry to see that the look was not one of terror, or even trepidation, but of anger.

"Let me go home, NOW," she said.

Without replying, Harry swept out of the room, firmly closing the door behind him. _The things we do…_ he thought, as he heard the girl's voice rising to a shrill scream.

"Let me out…LET ME OUT YOU BASTARD!"

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open. Becoming aware of where he was, he disentangled himself from his bedclothes, his heart palpitating. Little by little, remnants of the nightmare came back to him.

A chill ran through him as realised he had been seeing through Voldemort's eyes. _The girl on the bed…it couldn't have been Sally…she's a Muggle, she has nothing to do with do anything._

Trying to calm down, Harry reached for his glasses. As a NEWT student, he now had his own study bedroom. It was at moments like this that Harry yearned for the even breathing of the other three people in his old dormitory; something to bring him back to normality.

_Should I go to Dumbledore?_ thought Harry. The dream was exactly like the one he had had about Arthur Weasley the previous year, exactly like the one he had had about Sirius…Harry shivered. Could this be a trap?

Charging into Dumbledore's office in the middle of the night was not the best thing to do, decided Harry, especially about a dream that was so utterly implausible. He would wait until the morning.

* * *

"Chocolate Frog. Sugar quill. Fizzing Whizzbee. Um…Acid Pop?" The gargoyle stayed motionless. Harry kicked it in annoyance. Why did Dumbledore have to keep changing the password?

He had managed to get through breakfast without speaking much to either Ron or Hermione, as he knew that the first words out of his mouth would be "I had this dream last night…" The niggling doubt in his mind had forced him up to Dumbledore's office, although he knew that it would probably turn out to be pointless.

"Ice mice," said a voice behind him.

Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall looking at him curiously. She looked as though she was going to ask him a question, but clearly thought better of it and walked through into the Headmaster's office.

Harry followed after her quickly, sure that the gargoyle had just smirked at him.

* * *

As he entered Dumbledore's office, Harry was surprised to see not just Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, but several other people as well. As Remus Lupin entered via the floo and gave him a surprised smile, realisation dawned on Harry.

He had walked in on a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry mentally kicked himself. Of course Dumbledore had more important things to do – the wizarding world was at war for goodness sake! Besides, he wasn't about to start pouring his heart out about a dream in front of all these people, not after what had happened last time.

As he turned to leave, however, Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I assume you wanted to see me, Harry," he said, smiling.

"I'll come back later," mumbled Harry. "It wasn't important."

"We can go into my chambers if you would prefer," said Dumbledore, indicating a door to the side of the large office that Harry hadn't noticed before.

Harry nodded.

* * *

The small annexe off the much larger office contained a small table and three plush chairs. Dumbledore sat in one and indicated for Harry to do the same. He leaned forward.

"So," he said, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

The niggling doubt that had previously been in Harry's mind had now developed into full blown paranoia. He took a deep breath.

"I had another dream," he said. "Voldemort had kidnapped…a girl. She's a Muggle, a friend of mine, but she can't be…I mean, she's a Muggle…" Harry trailed off.

Dumbledore sat up, eyebrows raised. Without saying a word, he stood up and walked back into the main office. Harry followed him, confused.

All the people in the office turned to look at Dumbledore and Harry, but Dumbledore ignored them. He moved towards his desk and began to sort through a pile of what seemed to be Muggle newspapers. He picked one up and handed it to Harry.

"Is this the girl?" Dumbledore asked, his voice low.

Harry felt as though the floor had disappeared from beneath his feet. On the front page was a picture of Sally in her school uniform underneath the headline:

P**OLICE BEGIN HUNT FOR MISSING TEENAGER.**

* * *

A/N: Two chapters in less thantwenty-fourhours, I am on a roll! However, I have only received one review for my last chapter and that is from the ever stunning juno malabre. Please review, I love receiving them, they make me happy…sob.


	8. The Search

**The Search**

"So, what are we going to do?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Harry staggered back into a chair. He felt numb.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he said, staring downwards.

"Of course you didn't," said Remus, looking at Harry intently. "None of this is your fault, Harry."

Harry knew it wasn't just the present situation Remus was talking about, but it didn't make him feel any better. Anyone he dared to get close to – Sally, Sirius, even his parents – got hurt. Died. The prophecy was turning out to be more of a curse.

"What if this has nothing to do with Harry? What if it's just a coincidence?" suggested Tonks.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Personally," he said, "I don't believe in coincidences. Besides, there is too much proof pointing towards the fact that the girl has been taken by Voldemort."

People sitting around the room winced at the sound of the name.

"But why?" asked Mundungus Fletcher, frowning. "Why would he take a Muggle girl?"

"Does he need a reason?" spat Professor McGonagall. "I think that this just goes to show that Muggles are just as involved in this war as we are."

"Not to put too fine a point on it," said Severus Snape, entering the conversation for the first time, "but this is not a normal Muggle attack. Assuming Potter is to be believed," he looked sceptically at Harry, "the girl has been taken prisoner. If the Dark Lord didn't need her for a reason – a very specific reason, I might add – she would already be dead."

Not for the first time, Harry felt like punching Snape. He flexed his fingers, and then realised, alarmed, that he was imitating the gesture made by Voldemort in his dream. Tensing, he sat up rigidly and settled for glaring at the Potions master instead.

The conversation continued on this vein for some time. Although many people made suggestions as to a course of action, most were shouted down by the other members of the Order, if not ignored completely.

Finally Harry decided to speak.

"We need to go and get her," he said.

Everyone turned to look at him. Most had seemed to have forgotten he was in the room, and many were looking at him as though he was slightly deranged.

Unperturbed, Harry continued. "It may seem obvious, but no one has suggested it, and as some people have pointed out," he looked directly at Snape, "we may not have much time."

There was a murmur of discussion from the assembled people, but no one ventured forth a reply. Finally, Dumbledore spoke.

"Harry," he said, "we have no clear idea where she is being held, and any visible moves to rescue her may put her in even more danger."

Harry's eyes widened as he realised what was being said. They were actually contemplating leaving Sally where she was, even if it meant she would die…

Harry got to his feet. Remus made as if to stop him, but Harry pushed him away.

_I'm not going to leave her there,_ he thought, _even if it means I have to do this alone_.

* * *

Harry sat down on his bed. It was useless. He had gone over the dream again and again, but had been unable to find any clues as to its location. If he was perfectly honest, he wasn't even sure which country it was in.

So much for playing the hero.

As he sat with his head in his hands, there was a tentative knock on his door, followed by Ron's voice calling his name.

Harry contemplated ignoring him, but he knew that Ron would just report back to Hermione, who would come to check on him herself, and probably come to some very perceptive conclusions.

Reluctantly, Harry walked to the door, opened it a crack and peered through. The red-head was standing outside, looking both worried and uncomfortable.

"Are you alright mate?" he said, "It's just we haven't seen you since breakfast. Hermione was worried, we both were."

Harry replied with a curt "I'm fine," and moved to shut the door again.

Ron put his hand out to prevent Harry from doing so. "Look Harry, you shouldn't just shut yourself away like this, we're here for you, and you shouldn't be on your own," he said, his voice full of concern.

Harry was surprised. Normally Ron left emotional things to Hermione, adding in the occasional emphatic nod when required.

Ron took advantage of Harry's momentary lapse of concentration, pushed the door open and stepped inside. Annoyed, Harry sat back down on his bed, leaving Ron standing in the middle of the room, wondering what to do next.

After a few minutes, Ron broke the silence. "So are you going to talk to me, or are you just going to glare at me?" he said.

Harry stood up, furious. "You want to talk?" he retorted "Alright! Sally has been kidnapped by Voldemort, we have no idea where she is, and there's a good chance she's going to die – just like Sirius did."

Harry stopped. This was the first time that he had actually mentioned Sirius' death out loud. It made it seem more real, more final. Crumpling onto the bed, he burst into racking sobs.

Ron stood still, horrified. Slowly he moved towards Harry and sat down on the bed next to him. Putting his arm around Harry, he patted him awkwardly.

There was a sharp intake of breath. Looking up, Ron could see that Hermione was standing in the doorway. "Oh, Harry," she said, rushing over and enveloping Harry in a hug.

They stayed like that for some time, allowing Harry to at last cry all his unshed tears.

* * *

Much later, once Harry had calmed down and eaten some chocolate, the three decided to visit Dumbledore and check if the Order had come to a solution.

Harry entered the office, with Ron and Hermione following close behind. The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, and Harry was shocked to see the same weariness in the old man's eyes that he had detected during the summer.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, looking up. "We have contacted the Muggle government. The girl's parents are on their way."

Harry had vague memories of Sally's parents, who he had met briefly. They had been perfectly nice. Neil and Susan. A normal middle class family on a normal middle class street. Until Harry had arrived and ruined everything.

Harry didn't want to see them again.

"So what do we do now?" he asked.

"We wait," replied Dumbledore simply.

* * *

Harry stood outside Dumbledore's office, while Dumbledore explained the situation to Sally's parents. He could hear Sally's father's voice rising in agitation, demanding explanations and answers.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Neil marched out, followed by Dumbledore. Harry walked into the office and saw Susan staring out of the window, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. She turned to him and then back to the window, not saying a word.

Harry felt that he should apologise in some way, but he wasn't sure what to say.

As he turned to leave, however, Susan said his name quietly.

Harry turned back, surprised.

Although she still wasn't looking at him, Susan kept talking.

"People warned me," she sighed. "Letting my daughter run around with a boy like you was insane, they said. No good would come of it, they said. I wasn't convinced. Besides, I knew that Sally would defend you to the hilt if I dared mention anything. She's loyal like that.

I met you; you seemed like a perfectly nice boy, if a bit quiet. Petunia told me that you were practically a crazed lunatic. I ignored her. I've never liked that woman – too nosy, too much time on her hands. I knew my Sal well enough to let her do what she liked. Just goes to show, doesn't it?"

Susan turned to face Harry.

"They tell me about the potential danger caused by a sixteen-year-old boy, but no-one tells me that a megalomaniac can abduct my daughter in the middle of the night while she's sleeping! People forget to mention that an incredibly powerful wizard is trying to take over the world, because they're too busy checking what their neighbours are doing! Do you think I would have let my little girl out of the house if I knew what was going on?"

Susan wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm sorry," she said, "you didn't want to hear all that."

Harry was gobsmacked. _She_ was apologising to _him_?

"Don't you blame me?" he asked.

Susan shook her head. "Of course I don't! From what your headmaster has told us, I gather that you've suffered just as much as we have."

She reached out and put her hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't you blame yourself either," she said. "That won't do anyone any good, especially Sally."

* * *

At three o' clock in the morning, Harry still hadn't got to sleep. A subconscious fear of another nightmare kept waking him. As he lay staring at the dark ceiling, there was a hammering on his door.

Harry crawled out of bed and opened the door, blinking.

Standing outside was Professor McGonagall, looking frantic.

"They've found her," she gasped. "She's in the hospital wing. She's here."

* * *

**A/N**: A long chapter this time! Thank you all my lovely reviewers (goes to show what a little pleading can do!) Just one reply:

**ILoveOrli-27 – **I don't know, I think it would be in Hermione's nature to be quite jealous. If Harry was going out with Sally, she would more understand, but as Ron is clearly Harry's best friend out of the two, if he had another female best friend it might leave Hermione feeling quite redundant. Good comment though.


	9. Binding

**Binding**

Harry hurtled down the stairs and skidded down the hallway through the double doors that lead to the hospital wing.

He caught sight of the top of Sally's head resting on a pillow. She was surrounded by a large group of people. Harry ran towards them and stopped abruptly.

Her face, hair, hands and feet were covered in blood.

Harry let out a gasp and staggered back, his hands over his eyes. Several people turned around, Remus rushing over to calm Harry down.

"It's alright," said the werewolf, taking Harry's hands and gripping them between his own. "It's not her blood."

Harry let out a deep breath and let Remus guide him to a chair. "Whose blood is it then?" he asked, still shaking.

"Animal blood, mostly" replied Remus. "There's some human but I don't know whose, just that it's not hers."

Harry wondered for a moment how Remus knew so much, and then remembered that his lycanthropy gave him heightened senses.

"Why the hell…" he began, but Remus had already anticipated the question.

"We think she may have been used as part of an ancient dark ritual, looking at the blood and the way she is dressed."

Harry craned his neck over to the bed, to try and make sense of Remus' last statement. Sally was wearing a white robe, decorated with gold braiding and covered in runes.

"How did you find her?" he asked.

Remus looked down, unable to meet Harry's gaze. "She…she was left at the edge of the Forbidden Forest," he said. "Someone set off the alarms on the school boundary. When Hagrid went to check, he found her lying there. Once her parents had confirmed it was Sally, Proffesor Dumbledore called a meeting of the Order."

Harry shuddered. Kidnapped, used as part of a dark ritual and then unceremoniously in the woods. _She must have been terrified, _he thought.

Madam Pomfrey approached the chair in which Harry was sitting and crouched down beside him.

"Sally will be absolutely fine," she said. "No cuts, no bruises, once we get all that blood off her and she's had a good night's sleep, she'll be as good as new. In fact…"

Madam Pomfrey stood up.

"Everybody out!" she boomed. "This girl needs some rest."

One by one, the people standing around the bed traipsed out, leaving only Neil and Susan. Susan was sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking her daughter's hair, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Madam Pomfrey turned back to Harry. "Go get some sleep dear," she said, smiling gently. "Nothing's going to happen tonight."

Harry stood up, still in a daze.

"Can I…can I stay here?" he asked tentatively.

Madam Pomfrey beamed. "I was about to suggest it myself," she said, moving to pick up some linen. "I'll make you up a bed."

* * *

Harry awoke to sunlight streaming onto his face. Squinting, he rolled over, unsure where he was. Slowly, the events of the previous night began to come back to him. Sitting up, he put on his glasses, and looked over to Sally's bed. The curtains around it were drawn.

Harry slid out of bed and padded to the other side of the hospital wing. From behind the curtains, he could hear two voices; one unmistakably Madam Pomfrey's, the other higher and younger sounding. Harry hurried over to the bed.

Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtain.

"She's awake, and she's been asking for you." she said, smiling broadly.

Harry needed no further encouragement. He dashed behind the curtain.

Sally was sitting up in bed. Now that all the blood had been cleaned off, she looked pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She smiled and stretched her arms out to him. Obliging, Harry gave her an awkward hug, and then backed away.

"So," she said, still smiling, "is there something you want to tell me?"

* * *

"Where are your parents?" asked Harry, suddenly noticing their absence.

Sally shrugged. "Getting some sleep, probably. They were here all night, and they stayed for a while after I woke up. Mum didn't want to go, but it was obvious she was dropping on her feet."

Harry began to speak, but was interrupted by the entrance of Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

The headmaster approached Sally's bed. He was smiling, and Harry was relieved to see that the twinkle in his eyes had returned.

"How are you feeling, Sally?" asked Dumbledore.

"Still a bit groggy, but much better thanks," replied Sally.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Dumbledore, taking a seat. "I'm sorry to ask you this so soon, but we need to know exactly what happened to you after you were kidnapped. Do you mind talking about it now?"

Sally bit her bottom lip and nodded resolutely.

"Can't she…" began Harry, but Sally shook her head.

"No Harry," she said, "its fine."

She leaned back against her pillows.

"I was in the same room for most of the time. It was in a castle, I think, but I can't be sure. There was a man, he told me to call him Lord Voldemort, but I refused to call him anything. You could tell that he thought his name commanded complete respect, just from the way he said it, and I didn't want him think he had any power over me.

He wanted to hurt me, he really did, I could tell – but he couldn't. Or wouldn't, I don't know. In a way I found that scarier than if he had hurt me, the look in his eyes, the knowledge that he could kill me if he if he wanted to. He would sit in the room for hours, talking to me – well talking to himself really, I just happened to be there. He kept saying that his power knew no bounds, that he was limitless, that no one could defeat him now, stuff like that. Rambling."

Sally took a deep breath.

"Then one day, it must have been yesterday, he came in holding a long, white, dress thing. He said that if I did exactly what he told me to, I could go home. I had to put on the dress and then he…" she began to speak faster, "he drew on my face and on my hands and on my feet in blood and then I remember the fire, a large fire and lots of people and…"

Sally stopped. She was breathing heavily.

Dumbledore leaned forward and rested his hand on her shoulder. He looked sombre. "It is just as I feared," he said.

Sally raised both eyebrows quizzically.

"I think I should explain," continued Dumbledore. "From what you have described, I am almost certain that you were subjected to an ancient ritual called a soul binding. The fact that Voldemort didn't hurt you or perform magic on you before the ritual almost confirms it – you would need to be physically in very good health for it to have any chance of working. In itself it is only theoretical, there is no record of it having ever been performed, but we have looked at the runes on the robes that you were wearing last night. They are unmistakeable."

"What's a soul binding?" asked Sally weakly.

Dumbledore sighed. "When two souls share a certain characteristic, for example the souls of blood relatives, they can be bound in such a way that they must both leave their respective bodies at the same time. This means that a person whose soul is bound to another's cannot live if the other is dead. I don't know why this has been performed on you, whether it was experimentation or if there was another reason. More importantly, however, I don't know whose soul yours has been bound to. Without that knowledge, you may be in very grave danger."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for leaving it so long to update, I've been so unbelievably busy. My choir was in the semi-finals of the Choir of the Year competition this weekend, and we got through to the final (!) soI've been in Manchester. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers: 

**fippets** : Glad you like it! I was also tempted to make them more disbelieving but decided not to through sheer laziness. I hang my head in shame. (Although fippets generally makes me hang my head in shame - not only did she sing an amazing solo on Sunday, she has also written a brilliant fic called The Power Within. I glare jealously at her.)

**Stardustgirl23** : I'm glad you like it! You are now official proof that plugs do work!

**Fictionair** : OK, OK, I will, I will!


	10. Muggle at Hogwarts

**Muggle at Hogwarts**

"At least tell us where you're going next time," said Hermione, arms folded.

"What, at three a.m.?" replied Harry, grinning.

A frantic search for Harry that morning had led Ron and Hermione to Dumbledore's office, where various members of the Order had explained the night's events. Now Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting by the lake, making the most of the sunny Sunday afternoon, while Harry filled them in on the rest of the details.

"So how's Sally now?" asked Ron.

Harry sighed. "She's still a bit shaken, understandably. Her parents arrived before I left, so I suppose she's talking to them. I said I'd go back and see her later."

"We can all go, after the meeting," said Hermione.

Harry turned to her, confused. "What meeting?"

"There's a meeting for all sixth years in Professor Flitwick's classroom at seven," said Hermione, yawning. "We'll get our timetables, I suppose, and they'll tell us about NEWTS."

Harry groaned. "Oh, that sounds fantastic."

"It'll be strange, not being in all the same classes any more," said Ron, wistfully.

The other two nodded in agreement.

To no one's surprise, Hermione had got Os in all her OWLS, as well as getting the highest marks in the country for Arithmancy and Charms. Having given up on SPEW, she was now pursuing a career in politics, and was therefore taking Arithmancy, Further Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic and Defence against the Dark Arts. It had taken several long chats with Dumbledore, McGonagall and Lupin to persuade her not to take Ancient Runes as well.

Ron, on the other hand, had had the opposite problem choosing his NEWT subjects. Although his results had been much better than expected, (two Os, five E's and two A's), the combination hadn't been the one he had been hoping for. One of his O's had been in Potions, and the other (to his horror) had been in Divination. As he was still hoping to become an Auror, he had grudgingly agreed to take Potions, but even the combined forces of Mr and Mrs Weasley and most of the Hogwarts staff couldn't persuade him to spend another minute with Professor Trelawney. Instead, he had decided to take Transfiguration, Charms, Defence against the Dark Arts and Astronomy.

However, Harry's subject choices had been the most surprising of all. He had also done incredibly well in his OWLs, with four Os, four Es and an A, as well as the highest mark in the country for Defence against the Dark Arts. Despite this, the idea of becoming an Auror had become less and less appealing to him over the summer, and he had decided to take subjects that he enjoyed and work out a career path later. After much deliberation, he had settled upon Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts. The thought of finally getting away from Snape had cheered Harry up greatly, almost as much as remembering the look on Snape's face when he had found out that Harry had got an O in Potions.

* * *

By ten past seven, the entire sixth year and the various House heads had assembled in Professor Flitwick's classroom. 

"Well it's good to see nothing has changed," muttered Harry, nudging Hermione.

"What?" said Hermione, looking round.

"Snape has given me three death glares since we walked in…no, wait…four," replied Harry grinning.

Professor McGonagall stood up and waited for everyone to stop talking.

"As you know," she began, "this is the year in which you begin your NEWTS. Obviously, this means that you will be expected to work very hard, as these exams will ultimately determine the opportunities available to you in the future. However, many people find that their sixth year is their best year at Hogwarts. You are all young adults now, and this means that you will be given more freedom; but remember, this freedom is a privilege, and will be sanctioned if it is abused.

Firstly, sixth years who are taking five subjects or less will have free periods."

There was a ripple of appreciation, and those who were taking six subjects looked slightly annoyed.

"It is recommended that these are used for private study," Professor McGonagall continued.

The ripple of appreciation turned to laughter.

"Secondly," Professor McGonagall said, with a steely glare at those who had been laughing, "sixth and seventh years are also allowed to visit Hogsmeade at weekends."

There was a cheer from one corner of the room, and the students broke into excited chatter. Professor McGonagall put a hand up to quieten them.

"It had been suggested that this particular privilege be revoked this year, in light of the fact that we are at war. However, it has been agreed that as long as you are sensible, there should not be any problems. Students leaving the castle to go to Hogsmeade must sign in and out, and all students must be back by ten o' clock, no later. Any infringement of these rules will result in the entire year being banned from returning to Hogsmeade."

There was a stunned silence. Professor McGonagall smiled.

"I hope that you will all enjoy this year, and that you will make the most of the opportunity to study your chosen subjects in more depth, as well as getting to know each other better, and reaching your full potential."

There was a short burst of applause, and then everyone got up and began to leave. Even Draco Malfoy, who generally tried to avoid showing any emotion, looked thrilled at the idea of unlimited time in Hogsmeade. Harry smiled to himself. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad year after all.

* * *

When Harry, Ron and Hermione finally got to the hospital wing, Sally was making her way speedily through a large sundae. Around her were what looked like the remains of several other desserts, including some apple pie and half a muffin. 

Harry approached the bed, while Ron and Hermione stood in a corner, watching.

Looking up, Sally stopped eating, embarrassed. "I was a bit hungry," she said sheepishly.

Harry laughed. "How are you feeling?"

Sally considered the question, not completely sure how to answer it. "Better," she said slowly. "I'm still a bit shell-shocked, I suppose, but I'm getting used to the whole soul binding thing. Things look a lot better from this side of a chocolate brownie."

"When are you going home?" asked Harry, sitting at the foot of the bed.

Sally shrugged. "Not for a while, anyway," she said, gesturing in the air with her spoon. "Professor Dumbledore said that he didn't think it was wise for me to leave until we know the extent of the spell and why I was left…here…" She paled and began to eat the sundae again.

After a few moments she looked up, and gestured once again with her spoon. "Are those your friends?" she asked, pointing to the corner in which Ron and Hermione were standing. Looking uncomfortable, they emerged, and allowed themselves to be ushered over by Harry, who was smiling reassuringly.

There was an awkward silence.

"Okay," said Sally, straightening up. "You're Ron, you're Hermione," she began, pointing to each of them in turn. "Ron has five brothers and a sister, all of whom have red hair. Hermione is really, really clever, and likes to read a lot."

"How did you know that?" asked Ron incredulously.

Sally laughed. "Harry may have mentioned it in passing."

The atmosphere became more relaxed, and soon the four were chatting amicably; Sally stopping the conversation every so often so that they could explain various wizarding terms to her. Harry was relieved. The fact that Ron and Hermione actually got on with Sally would make his life much easier.

* * *

When Dumbledore entered the hospital wing, he was surprised to see four people sitting on Sally's bed, sharing what was left of a sundae. 

The headmaster coughed lightly to make his presence known. Seeing him, Hermione leapt off the bed and began to brush herself down furiously, while the other three tried to inconspicuously get the ice-cream off their faces.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I see the house elves obliged," he said.

Sally nodded.

"Well I won't interrupt," continued Dumbledore. "I just came to say that, as you will be staying with us for some time, it may be a good idea for me to tell the school, and save you some awkward questions."

Sally nodded again, this time more slowly.

"Brilliant!" said Dumbledore, turning to leave. "I'll make the announcement at breakfast tomorrow. With you there of course."

As the door swung shut, Sally swallowed sharply. "What did I just agree to?" she asked, burying her head in her hands.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione met Sally at the entrance to the Great Hall. Clearly in an attempt to dress inconspicuously, she was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. However, in contrast to the sea of black robes, she may as well have been wearing a large neon sign. 

Once they had sat down, Harry and Ron immediately began to pile their plates with food. It was only when Harry had started on his second helping of toast that he noticed that Sally wasn't eating. He nudged her.

"Eat something."

Sally shook her head. "After last night, I don't think I'll ever be hungry again," she replied.

Before Harry could say anything else, Professor Dumbledore stood up. Announcements at breakfast were unusual, and general chatter became hushed as people looked round curiously.

"I would like to announce," began Dumbledore, "that we will have a visitor with us for the next few weeks. Her name is Sally, and she is sitting at the Gryffindor table at the moment."

Everyone turned to look at Sally, who had now turned bright red and was studying her empty plate intently.

"I hope that you will welcome her warmly and make her stay here as comfortable as possible. Thank you." Dumbledore sat down.

There were another few moments of silence, and the normal level of chatter ensued once again. This time, however, most of it was clearly about Sally. People on the far ends of the hall were even standing up to try and get a glimpse of her.

Sally put her hands over her face. "Well, it could have been worse," she said through the gap in her fingers. "He could have made me get up and do a tap dance in the table."

* * *

A/N: As you can probably tell, I was very hungry when I wrote this chapter! As juno malabre pointed out, I forgot to thank quite a few people at the end of my last chapter. Probably because there was a teacher standing behind me saying "Shouldn't you be at registration?" Anyway, I will make amends: 

**Star19**: Thank you!

**Juno malabre:** Ah yes. Because we never do French in French...Besides, less chat, more writing stockholm syndrome!

**benwa**: Glad you like it! Please keep reading.

**Arloneyi**: Well...I forgive you. But just this once, and only because you're so lovely...

**Fippets**: Ah you are a clever little bunny. You worked it out!

**Fictionair**: I love getting your reviews. They make me feel good about myself.: D


	11. Phalanx and Firewhisky

**Phalanx and Firewhisky**

After a week of working at NEWT level, Harry was seriously considering leaving school and becoming a travelling minstrel. Every single subject had quadrupled its workload, as well as becoming several times harder. Despite his natural prowess at the subject, Harry was even finding Defence Against the Dark Arts a strain; and had grudgingly decided to use the homework diary that Hermione had given him the previous Christmas, just to keep on top of things.

"Hi Harry."

"Hi," replied Harry, unthinkingly, as he hurried up the stairs, desperately trying to remember which class he had next. He stopped mid-step and turned round.

"Sally?"

She gave him a little wave.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, walking back down towards her.

Sally shrugged. "I got bored, so I decided to have a look around the school."

Harry shook his head. "You shouldn't just go off on your own, you could get lost."

"I did."

"What? What happened? Are you okay, did you…"

"Oh don't worry, it was fine, I got directions. Besides," Sally continued scathingly, "do you know what the most exciting thing I did today was?"

Harry shook his head.

"I played Bohemian Rhapsody on my teeth with a pencil. I was glad I got lost, if only because it gave me something to do!"

"Well," said Harry, thoughtfully, "we're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, if you want to come with us."

Sally's eyes lit up. "Yes, that would be brilliant!"

"Why don't you come and have dinner in the Great Hall tonight as well?"

Sally considered this, and then nodded slowly. "Okay then."

Waving once again, she turned away from Harry and walked off down the corridor. Harry stood waiting on the stairs. As expected, Sally reappeared after a few moments looking sheepish.

"Harry, where…"

"Turn left at the end of the corridor, down the stairs, mind the trick step, turn right and it's straight ahead of you."

"Thanks."

* * *

Dinner was a surprisingly quiet affair. No one took much notice of Sally at all, although most of the people on the Gryffindor table gave her quite a wide berth. Choosing to ignore this, she spent the meal chatting to Ron, Harry and Hermione, and trying to introduce herself to some of the other sixth years without much success.

As Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sally were leaving the Great Hall, however, Tracey Davis, a blonde Slytherin girl, began to make very audible comments about Muggles, along with the rest of the rest of the Slytherin table.

"I mean, what is this, some sort of animal shelter? First a giant, then a werewolf, now this! It's dangerous, who knows what we might catch? If Dumbledore insists on it being at Hogwarts, why isn't it just set loose in the forest like all the other creatures? Or at least kept in a cage or something."

Sally grabbed Harry to prevent him from jumping across the Slytherin table.

"Leave it Harry. After all," she turned to face Tracey, "we don't know what's going on in her life. It must be terrible for you," she continued, now addressing Tracey directly, "that Draco Malfoy is shagging you intermittently because Pansy Parkinson is making him wait." There was a collective gasp, and all heads in the hall turned to the Slytherin table. "You must feel so cheap, so used, so…utterly spineless. I mean the guy won't even let you come up to his room! He's been screwing you in the girls' toilets. If I had such low self esteem, I'd probably need to take it out on someone too."

With that, Sally turned on her heel and walked out of the Great Hall. Ron, Hermione and Harry followed her, stunned.

As they approached the hospital wing, Sally stopped, turned and did a flourishing bow.

Harry, Ron and Hermione applauded obligingly, Ron now almost crying with laughter.

"I haven't seen Malfoy look so embarrassed since Moody turned him into a ferret! How did you know about him and Davis?"

Sally smiled enigmatically.

"It's amazing; the things people say when they think they can't be overheard."

* * *

By the next morning, Sally had become one of the most popular girls in the year. Her little speech at dinner had caused Pansy to unceremoniously dump Draco Malfoy in front of the entire school, and he was noticeably absent from the wave of sixth years that were making their way to Hogsmeade. His total humiliation had turned Sally into something of a hero in the eyes of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike, and she was now surrounded by so many people that Harry was finding it difficult to stay near her. 

By the time they had all reached Hogsmeade, people began to disperse, but not before Sally had made arrangements to meet a group of Gryffindor sixth years in the Hog's Head that evening before returning to school.

"So," said Sally, finally coming over to Ron, Harry and Hermione, "where are we going?"

Before Harry could answer, the four were blinded by a flash of light. Whipping out his wand, it took Harry a few seconds to realise that the light had actually come from a camera. Looking around he could see that they were surrounded by reporters, all clamouring and shouting questions.

"Sally, how do you feel being at Hogwarts?"

"What was your reaction when you found out about the magical world?"

"Did you know any wizards before you came to Hogwarts?"

"Sally look over here…"

"Sally…."

"Sally…"

Thinking quickly, Harry grabbed Sally by the wrist and pulled her out of the crowd and into a back alley. Ron and Hermione followed close behind.

Harry leant against a wall, breathing heavily, after checking they hadn't been followed. "Bloody hell! What was all that about?"

"Well it's obvious, isn't it," said Hermione, superciliously. "Muggles almost never enter Hogwarts, when one does the press is bound to pick up on it."

Ron groaned. "What are we going to do now? We can't just sit here all day. You don't have the cloak do you Harry?"

"Yes I do," said Harry sarcastically "I keep in my pocket, just for moments like this."

"Just asking."

"Why don't you just leave me here?" suggested Sally. "Come and get me later."

"Don't be stupid," said Harry crossly, "besides, they've seen us with you now. They'll follow us as closely as they'll follow you."

"Well then let's go out there!" retorted Sally. "This is the first time I've ever been to a wizarding village, and I'm not going to spend the day sitting in a drain. If we see reporters just…just ignore them."

"Easier said than done," muttered Harry, but Sally had already stepped into the street.

* * *

The four managed to reach Honeydukes without too many problems, but as they entered the shop, Sally gasped as a hand grabbed her elbow. 

"Sally Mason? Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet. I was wondering if we could have a little chat."

As she said this, she manoeuvred Sally into a secluded corner of the shop, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione no choice but to follow.

Sitting on a stool, the reporter took a piece of parchment and a quill out of her crocodile skin handbag and, placing the parchment on her lap, balanced the quill on it.

"So," she began, "let's start with the big question. Why are you, a…non-magical person, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

Instead of answering, Sally turned to look at the parchment on Rita's lap, as the Quick Quotes Quill had already started scribbling away.

Looking bewildered and disorientated, she struggles to answer as the takes in the wondrous new world into which she has been thrown.

Sally raised one eyebrow. "No one's going to believe that," she said, "even if you do print it. It's too saccharine. Oh, and in answer to your question, no comment."

Rita Skeeter glared at the girl for a moment, and then changed her expression to what she clearly thought was a reassuring smile. The quill began to write faster.

"Well, do you at least have a few words for the Daily Prophet?" Rita asked.

Turning to leave, Sally called out a reply over her shoulder. "Actually I do. The second one is 'off '. I'll leave you to work out the first."

* * *

"You know she'll slaughter you," said Harry as they left the shop. 

Hermione shook her head. "Actually, she won't. Or rather, she can't. The Daily Prophet has been losing readers like wildfire since the whole You-Know-Who fiasco, so they're trying to seem as Muggle friendly as possible"

"Well that's good, at least," said Sally. "Right, where next?"

"Let's try Zonko's," suggested Ron.

After a short stop in Zonko's (which Sally admitted to Hermione she found a bit boring), they went up to the Shrieking Shack-mainly for Sally's benefit, as the novelty had most definitely worn off other three in third year. At Ron's insistence, they then returned to Honeydukes, where Sally immediately bought one of every single wizard sweet she could see – including Cockroach Cluster and an Acid Pop. This led to a debacle at the counter as Sally tried to work out the intricacies of wizard gold.

Because of this, by the time they reached the Hog's Head there was a party in full swing. Seamus and Dean hurried over to grab Sally and pull her over to the bar. She grabbed Ron's wrist, and he was dragged along as well, leaving Harry and Hermione in a corner on their own.

Harry looked at Hermione, and sat down. "Well this is going to be fun," he muttered.

* * *

From the looks of things, someone had managed to procure a bottle of Firewhisky – probably Justin Finch-Fletchley, who could easily pass for eighteen. The atmosphere had definitely become much more raucous, and Seamus was now leading a rendition of 'Danny Boy'. 

Getting slightly worried, Harry decided to get up and look for Sally and Ron. He found them in the middle of a large crowd, Sally giggling uncontrollably and clinging onto Dean Thomas. Harry sought out Ron who, although he wasn't sober, was less drunk than some of the others.

"How could you let her get like that?" shouted Harry, trying to make himself heard over the second verse of Danny Boy.

Ron shrugged. "She had barely anything, mate. Just a sniff and she was bouncing off the walls."

"Shit."

"What?"

"She's a Muggle, isn't she? Magical alcohol is bound to affect her more than anyone else." Harry sighed, exasperated. "I'd better take her home."

Prising Sally off Dean, Harry led her to the door, telling Hermione on his way out that she should probably keep an eye on Ron.

"Marvellous drink, Ogden's Firewhisky," Sally slurred as they left the pub. "I wrote a song about it, it goes 'La, la la la la…' no wait, that's not it, it goes 'La, la la, la la, laaa…' no, that's not it either…"

* * *

"I've definitely got it this time, it's 'La, la la, la la la, la…' no, still wrong…" 

Harry tried to quieten Sally down as he hurriedly signed them both back into the castle. Unfortunately, this only made things worse, as Sally put a finger to her lips and began making shushing noises and giggling.

Harry was certain that he couldn't take her back to the hospital wing in this state – even the normally discreet Madam Pomfrey would probably not be willing to turn a blind eye this time. Sighing once again, Harry began to heave Sally back to his study bedroom.

Once he had sat her on his bed, Harry began to look for some water for her to drink, to try and sober her up. When he turned back round to face her, he found that Sally had fallen sideways and was now snoring lightly. Harry considered waking her up, but decided against it and instead took off her shoes, placed her feet on the bed and covered her with a blanket.

Taking a pillow off the bed, he laid it on the floor and tried to transfigure it into a bed. On the third attempt it became a thin and uncomfortable looking sleeping bag.

_Oh well_, thought Harry, _it will have to do_.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the huge delay – not only has my life been absolutely mad, I had a bit of writer's block. Anyway, this chapter is quite a bit longer than some of the others, so I hope that made up for it. 

**fictionair: **I'm glad you like it!

**Star19: **Thank you.

**OHsnap: **Ah the romance may not be where you expect it to be…then again it might. That was useful, wasn't it?

**junomalabre: **I am part of that choir now you mention it! I knew I recognised you from somewhere…Anyway, thank you for being such a lovely beta.


	12. Green Eyed Monster

**Green Eyed Monster**

Harry woke up the next morning with a crick in his neck. Yawning, he fought his way out of the sleeping bag and went to open the curtains. As light flooded the bedroom, the figure on the four poster bed groaned and pulled the blankets over her head.

"I swear it's unnatural for the sun to be that bright in the morning," she said.

"How are you feeling?" asked Harry, highly amused.

"Like something died in my head."

"I'm not surprised; you were pretty out of it last night."

Sally peered out from under the covers.

"What do you mean 'out of it'?"

"Do you remember anything?"

Sally thought for a moment. "Vaguely."

"Well, you got into a fight with a tree on the way home."

Sally blushed.

"Don't worry," said Harry "you weren't the only one. In fact, you were probably more sober than Dean or Seamus."

Seemingly unimpressed by this information, Sally emerged from under the covers and began take stock of her new surroundings. Harry waited for the inevitable question, and was incredibly surprised when it didn't come. He decided to bring it up himself.

"Having woken up in my bed with no clear memory of what happened last night, aren't you even a little bit worried?"

Sally chuckled affectionately. "If it was anyone else, probably, but you're so…reliable. I'm betting that you were sober all evening, carried me home and tucked me in with a mug of cocoa. Besides, the sleeping bag indicates that you probably slept on the floor last night."

Harry wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended. After all, reliable was an adjective generally associated with Alsatians and Ford Escorts – not red-blooded males.

He turned to where Sally was looking at herself in the mirror. "I look terrible," she said, peering at her reflection. She turned to Harry. "You couldn't be a darling and get me some shampoo from my cupboard in the hospital wing, could you? Ooh, and a toothbrush. And some clothes. And some mascara. And…"

Harry looked at her incredulously. "What did your last slave die of?"

"Disobedience," Sally retorted.

Harry shook his head. "Well I'm not going. You'll just have to do it yourself."

Ten minutes later, on his way to the hospital wing, Harry wondered how he'd ended up wrapped round Sally's little finger.

* * *

As the days progressed, more and more of Sally's things began to appear in Harry's room; and when she asked Hermione to turn the sleeping bag she'd been using into a bed, Harry accepted that she was probably there to stay. She began to spend most of her time in the Gryffindor common room, and had soon created her own group of friends. 

As Harry tried to juggle homework, Quidditch and a social life, despite sleeping in the same room Harry and Sally were seeing less and less of each other. Harry didn't know why, but this bothered him; and he was glad of the moments that they spent together going between meals in the mornings and evenings.

On the way to breakfast one morning, Harry and Sally crossed paths with Professor Snape. Preparing himself for a cutting remark, Harry was shocked to see Sally smile and wave at the Potions master, who responded with a slight curving of the lips and a curt nod, before walking on.

Harry turned to Sally gobsmacked. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

Harry mimicked her wave.

"Oh, he gave me directions that day I was lost. He's just one of your teachers, isn't he?"

In Harry's opinion, referring to Snape as 'just a teacher' was tantamount to calling Voldemort 'that bloke with the funny eyes'.

"No he's not one of my teachers any more, thank God! He's a greasy old bat who hates me and all Gryffindors for just existing."

Sally shrugged. "Seemed perfectly nice to me."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You should be careful, you know! People aren't always who you think they are. He's a…" The word death-eater was on the tip of Harry's tongue, before he realised that revealing Snape's true status would mean telling Sally about Snape's work for the Order.

"He's a what?"

Harry sighed. "He's a nasty piece of work. Okay?"

"If you say so."

* * *

Later on, as Harry sat in the common room, he contemplated this new turn of events. Sally had been targeted by Voldemort, and a now a known Death Eater was showing an interest in her? Harry didn't care whether or not Dumbledore trusted Snape, he was worried. 

_It's weird_, thought Harry. _Snape hates anything to do with Muggles. I have to warn Sally, I don't care if I'm divulging Order secrets. Where is she anyway?_

As if on cue, Sally burst in through the portrait hole a minute later, closely followed by Ron. Both looked incredibly windswept. Sally rushed over to Harry.

"Why didn't you tell me you could fly?" she exclaimed, breathlessly.

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"I just went flying! It was brilliant!"

"Can Muggles fly?" asked Neville, who was sitting a few feet away.

"Well," said Sally, grinning "I wasn't really flying in that sense. More sitting on the back of Ron's broom clinging on to him for dear life."

Slowly, Harry began to understand what Sally was saying. He turned to Ron, livid.

"You took her flying?"

Ron looked at Harry with a neutral expression, betrayed by the fact that his ears had turned bright red.

"Just a couple of times over the Quidditch pitch," he said.

Harry took a deep breath, willing himself not to make a scene in the middle of the common room.

"She could have fallen off," he said through gritted teeth.

"It was fine, it wasn't that high," said Sally, re-entering the conversation. "Besides, I didn't fall off, and even if I had it would have been worth it. Thanks for taking me Ron."

Ron grinned. "Any time."

With that, Sally bounced out of the room in the direction of Harry's room.

Ron turned to Harry. "I really wouldn't have let anything happen to her, I promise," he said.

"Besides," said Dean, who had been listening, "what are you, her dad?"

Harry, unable to form a reply, just scowled and folded his arms.

* * *

The next day being Saturday, Harry had hoped that he would be able to get some rest. Unfortunately, after spending the morning on the Quidditch pitch, Harry had to work on his Herbology coursework in the greenhouses. Exhausted, he dragged himself up the stairs to his bedroom, deciding to go and see Ron on the way. As he approached his best friend's room, he noticed that the door was ajar, and he could hear voices coming from within. Peering through the crack in the door, Harry could see Sally sitting cross legged on Ron's bed, opposite Ron. They were playing wizard chess. 

"I told you I'm no good at this game," said Sally, sighing despondently.

"That's not true," Ron replied, "You're doing really well. Oh no… checkmate."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "How long did that take? Ten minutes?" She looked at her watch. "Oh, I forgot, bloody thing doesn't work here."

"It must be weird," said Ron, thoughtfully.

Sally nodded. "It is. It's not just the magic, I feel really isolated as well."

"Isolated?" said Ron "Everyone loves you!"

"Not really. They think I'm a fun person, but I wouldn't say I've really got any proper friends here. Apart from Harry of course, but he can be really…reclusive sometimes. I'd love to talk to him, but he's just not that kind of person. So it gets a bit lonely."

Harry turned away from the door, mind racing. Silently he climbed the stairs back up to his room and crawled into bed.

* * *

It was a few hours later that Sally finally returned to Harry's room. 

"Hiya," she called, in the general direction of the bed.

There was no answer.

"Harry?"

The lump under the covers remained silent.

"Harry, I know you're not asleep." She sat on the edge of the bed, forcing Harry to draw his legs up to his chest. "Are you ignoring me? What's the matter?"

Harry sat up suddenly, flinging the covers away from him. "I'M FEELING A BIT RECLUSIVE AT THE MOMENT, SORRY," he shouted, his eyes blazing.

Sally bit her lip. "You heard that?"

"Yes, I heard that," said Harry bitterly.

Sally began to fiddle with the hinge of Harry's trunk, something she generally did when she was nervous or agitated.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "But it's true; sometimes I feel you're really holding back. I just can't talk to you."

Harry got out of bed. "Maybe you just don't want to talk to me. Have you considered that? Maybe I'm just getting in the way of your relationship with your new mate Ron."

Sally shook her head. "I'm not trying to come between you two. I know that he's your best friend, and I'm sorry I've been dragging him away so often…"

"You just don't get it, do you?" said Harry "It's not him. It's you."

"It's me? What do you mean it's me?"

Harry sighed loudly. "It's…LOOK WOULD YOU JUST BLOODY WELL LEAVE IT ALONE?" He grabbed one end of the trunk, and pulled it away from Sally with such force that it landed on its side, spilling out its contents.

Harry stared at the trunk for a moment, and then sat down on the bed. "I'm sorry."

Sally sat down beside him and repeated her question. "What do you mean it's me?"

Harry muttered something indeterminate.

"What?"

"I want you to need me as much as I need you."

There was silence.

"You're so important to me," Harry continued. "It hurts me to see that you can just get on fine, and make loads of friends, and become so close to Ron, because it just makes it obvious that you don't need me. I'm jealous. No, it's more than that. I'm scared. I'm scared that you'll leave, and I'll go back to being who I was before I met you."

Sally turned to Harry, her face glistening with tears.

"You idiot," she sniffed, and then hugged him fiercely.

* * *

Once she had let Harry go, Sally knelt down and began to tidy up the things that had fallen out of Harry's trunk earlier on. 

"I can't believe you still have this," she said, picking up the knife that she had got Harry for his birthday.

"I completely forgot about it," said Harry. "I keep meaning to ask, how did you find out when my birthday is?"

Sally grinned. "Dudley. It took a fair amount of blackmail. Your birthday is the day before mine actually."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Sally's expression changed dramatically.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, concerned.

Sally grimaced. "It's stuck to my hand."

"What?"

"The knife is stuck to my hand, it won't come off."

"What do you mean 'it won't come off?'" Harry reached over to grab the knife. To his horror, he felt the familiar jolt behind his navel.

"It's a Portkey, it's a BLOODY PORTKEY" he shouted, as they both began to rise into the air.

Sally's eyes widened in alarm. "What…"

Harry only had time to shake his head before the rush of sound and colour.

He felt his body slam into a stone floor, and then no more.

* * *

A/N: A HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed! I've never received so many reviews for one chapter before – it's lovely to know that people are reading it! 

**Juno Malabre**: Yes you are a wonderful beta. In fact, get rid of that French exchange so you can beta some more!

**Fippets**: I'm glad you like spaghetti. I like apple pie.

**Emma Barrows**: Thank you for all your reviews! I actually squealed when I opened my email inbox! And I will check out your fics.

**R-Krulle**: It seems that it was easier to work out who she's bound to than I originally thought – a lot of people have told me that they already know. Oh well, hopefully there'll be a few surprises along the way…

**OH-snap**: That is actually a very good point. I suppose it's because I love Sally so much that I assume everyone else will : ). It is a bit contrived though, you're right. Apologies!

**BlueMoonChild89**: Glad you like it! Thank you for putting me on your favourites list.

**Fictionair**: It's strange, I swear all the time but when it comes to writing things down I cringe using anything stronger than damn! But yeah, a lot of people overuse swear words in fics.

**IamSiriusgirl: **Thank you!

**scholcomp25**: Well, as junomalabre will tell you, I'm terrible about updating, but I am improving!

**Jamie Prongs**: Hope you liked this chapter as well!


	13. The Ultimate Sacrifice

**The Ultimate Sacrifice**

It took Harry's eyes a while to adjust to the lack of lighting, but once they had, being able to see his surroundings didn't improve his opinion of them. They were lying in what seemed to be a stone dungeon, and the only window in the room was barred. Slowly, Harry got to his feet.

"Sal, are you alright?"

Sally, still on the ground, moved her arm experimentally. "No broken bones," she replied. "Possibly some internal bleeding." She sat up and crossed her legs. "Right," she said, matter of factly. "First things first. How did we get here?"

"I don't know. That's the problem."

"When we were in the air you said something about a key."

"A portkey. It's normally programmed to go from one place to another at a certain time, but it couldn't have been – that would be too much of a coincidence."

Sally thought for a moment. "Was that the first time that anyone touched the knife since you packed it?"

"I think so; it ended up at the bottom of the trunk so I forgot about it."

"Could it be programmed to go from place to place regardless of what time it is?"

Harry thought back to his last Charms lesson. "It is possible, but why would someone…Voldemort?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"So" Harry said, sighing, "what do we do now?"

"We go and find him."

Sally got to her feet.

"That's a good idea," said Harry, with a sarcastic note. "Maybe he'll be so flattered that we came to see him, he'll invite us for tea and fairy cakes and then send us off on our merry way waving a checked handkerchief!"

Sally moved to the door and pushed it. It swung open.

"Or alternatively, we might catch him by surprise," she said.

* * *

The door opened onto a dark tunnel. Harry stepped into the gloominess cautiously, with Sally (at Harry's insistence) following behind. Harry muttered 'Lumos', but even the light at the end of his wand didn't help much.

"It's all a bit Gothic, isn't it?" said Sally, breaking the silence. "You almost

expect a raven to fly down and say 'Nevermore'."

Harry sighed exasperatedly and they carried on in silence.

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, tiddly dee…"

"Sally!"

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood."

They stumbled on, through the darkness, with no idea where they were going. Then suddenly Harry stopped, causing Sally to walk straight into him.

"What? Why did you stop?"

"It's getting lighter."

Sally shook her head, confused.

"He's there," continued Harry, a slight tremor in his voice. "He's waiting for us. We haven't got a chance."

Sally turned to look at him. "No, that's not true. We wouldn't have a chance if we stayed here and waited for him to come and get us. We are going to go out and face him and show him that we are not afraid of him."

There was a determination in Sally's voice that Harry had never heard before. Although every fibre of his being was telling him to stay exactly where he was, he nodded imperceptibly and took her hand.

They walked on, side by side.

* * *

At the end of the tunnel was a wooden door, standing slightly ajar. Harry dropped Sally's hand and slowly made his way up to the door, until he was standing directly in front of it.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll have a look around."

Sally opened her mouth to protest, but Harry silenced her with a look.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said.

Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed the door open and stepped through the doorway.

The door lead to a richly furnished hall that, to Harry's great relief, was empty. Moving around the room, Harry began to look for any clues as to where they were or how they could get out. Spotting another door on the far side of the hall, he hurried towards it, and then backed away in alarm as the doorknob began to turn of its own accord. As the door opened slowly, Harry tried to run, but it was already too late.

He was standing face to face with Lord Voldemort.

* * *

"Harry Potter," drawled Voldemort, closing the door behind him. "I've been expecting you."

He sat down in a chair and gestured to the one opposite him. "Come. Sit."

Harry looked around frantically for a means of escape, trying to keep Voldemort's attention away from the door behind which Sally was standing, just out of view.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you," said Voldemort. "You wouldn't make it past me to that door," he pointed to the door via which he had just entered, "and you don't want to leave through that one," he pointed to the door on the other side of the room, "in case I find out that my niece is hiding behind it."

Harry stared at Voldemort. "Your what?"

Sally slowly entered the room, looking horror-struck. "Your what?"

Voldemort turned to Sally and gave a harsh laugh. "I think I should start at the beginning."

* * *

"After the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, I decided to have Harry followed. It was impossible for me to fully plan my return to power unless I was certain that this time I would not be thwarted. I was told that he made a habit of walking alone at night. I could have killed him then and there – but it would never have worked. The protection on him was simply too strong while he was living at his aunt and uncle's house. So I waited.

And then he met you.

Oh, the possibilities were endless. A friend, not under the eye of Dumbledore, non-magical, someone that would be overlooked until it was much too late. At the very least, you would have been a useful bargaining tool.

But it turned out that you were so much more. Even I could not have possibly imagined it. I had my Seers find out about you; your character, your hopes and fears…and your lineage. What they discovered was, remarkable, to say the least.

In my final year at Hogwarts, I decided to learn as much as I could about my father – the man who left my mother to give birth in sin and die in squalor. It turned out that he was having another relationship with a woman from his village, and that she was expecting a child. He supported her, he stayed with her, and when the child was born he was there. He was there while I was left to rot in a Muggle orphanage.

I killed him, of course. It was the first thing I did after leaving school. But that girl, the child who was wanted and loved in my place, she was a thorn in my side. Her mere existence grated upon me like nothing else. So I tried to kill her as well. Twice I tried, and twice I was thwarted. And then, I had my opportunity.

She was about two years old, and she was in the park with her mother. I watched from a distance. Suddenly, the ball that she was playing with rolled over to where I was standing. Without thinking, I picked it up. She ran towards me, and stood in front of me; her hands outstretched, her face expectant. That was my chance. I could have killed her there and then. But I didn't.

I couldn't kill a child.

I left the country after that. I trained for years, became darker, more powerful. But I never forgot that one moment of weakness, that instant of compassion. Then came a chance for me to turn back the clock. Another child, one that had to be disposed of. Harry Potter. This time, I was damaged not only emotionally, but physically.

Yet, it seems that everything has a purpose. The first child that I was unable to kill grew up. She grew up and had a daughter of her own. A daughter that would eventually help me become greater than anyone could have possibly imagined.

You. "

* * *

Harry turned to Sally. She was shaking visibly.

"You're lying," she spat.

"Am I?" said Voldemort, chuckling derisively. He muttered some spell words in guttural tones. To Harry's horror, runes began to glow white on Sally's hands and face, as identical runes appeared on the face and hands of Voldemort.

"We're bound, my dear. Blood relatives. Soul to soul."

Voldemort turned to Harry.

"There is always a weakness in those who choose the path of good. Just as I knew that your Gryffindor chivalry would attract you to that portkey I had planted, I know that your compassion will not allow you to murder her in cold blood. Just as your Mudblood mother died through the weakness of love, so shall you."

Sally began to scream frantically.

"JUST DO IT HARRY! FORGET ABOUT ME, JUST KILL HIM!"

Voldemort turned to Sally and pointed his wand at her. "Imperio."

She stopped shouting, and her eyes glazed over.

"Now sit down and be quiet," said Voldemort, as Sally flopped to the floor.

Voldemort turned back to Harry. "As it was always meant to be," he said. "To the victor, the spoils."

Harry raised his wand, and sent a jet of light at Voldemort that was easily deflected.

"Don't play with me, Potter," said Voldemort. "I have already won. Or maybe I am wrong. Maybe you have no problem killing those you love. How is your godfather, by the way?"

"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT HIM!" shouted Harry, sending another jet of light towards the dark wizard. Again it was easily deflected.

"Potter, you should just accept death," said Voldemort lazily.

Harry looked into Voldemort's eyes. "Never," he said, quietly.

"Never? Well, let us see if we can change your mind. Crucio."

As Harry fell to the floor, screaming, Voldemort laughed. "Beg me for death. Beg me to let you die."

There was stirring from the other side of the room. Distracted, Voldemort took the Cruciatus curse off Harry. Still lying on the floor, Harry could see that Sally was trying to break free.

Slowly, painfully, she stood up.

"Sit down, girl," said Voldemort, annoyed.

Sally grimaced as she struggled to stay standing. Harry, remembering how hard it was to fight the Imperius curse, began to urge her on.

"Come on Sal," he whispered "come on, fight it, you can do it."

Voldemort became more and more agitated. "Imperio, Imperio, IMPERIO!"

Sally's arm began to rise. In her hand, she was still holding the knife.

As if in slow motion, with a downwards movement, she stabbed the blade into her own abdomen.

Simultaneously, both the Muggle girl and the one of the greatest wizards of all time crumpled to the floor.

It took Harry a few seconds to realise that the wrenched screaming sounds were coming from his own mouth.

Crawling over to Sally's body, he crouched next to her, and sobbed.

* * *

A/N: It's not the end of the fic! Just so you know. Thanks to everyone who reviewed:

**Rubber-duckiesofdoom:** And the problems are just getting worse! I'm glad you found it again, hope you still like it.

**benwa: **Thank you! Please keep reading.

**Musings-of-Apathy:** Ah well, that happens a lot with romance. Annoying things happening at inopportune moments. By the way, I was convinced that there were no male HP fanfic people, so thank you for dispelling that myth!

**IamSiriusgrl:** I'm sorry, I'm terrible at updating. You'll just have to get a big stick to poke me with every so often.

**Juno Malabre: **No beta this week! I miss you! sob

**Kelly: **I hope you got at least a bit of sleep! Maybe you should borrow IamSiriusgrl's stick…

**Jamie Prongs: **Good, good. Glad to know that you're still enjoying it!

**BlueMoonChild89: **Well it was followed by a chapter…eventually…thanks for bearing with me!


	14. On the Brink

**On the Brink**

"Should we check?"

"I don't know, the Dark Lord doesn't like to be disturbed."

"But he said he'd be back in a few minutes."

"Okay, just open the door a crack."

The door swung open slowly. Tentatively, Crabbe and Goyle Senior entered the room, their Death Eater hoods flapping uselessly in their hands. Within seconds, they had seen the lifeless body of their master; Crabbe letting out a bellow that brought the rest of the Death Eaters running. All of the hooded figures crowded round Voldemort, ignoring the boy crouched over the body of the girl in the corner.

Except one.

Severus Snape moved over to the steadily growing pool of blood, and prised a protesting Harry off Sally. Opening her lips and tilting her head back, Snape began to pour a few drops into her mouth from a vial he had extracted from his robes.

Harry snapped out of his stupor. "What…what are you doing? Leave her alone!"

Snape motioned to Harry to be quiet. "Blood replenishing potion," he muttered through gritted teeth. Once he had finished, he carefully lifted Sally into his arms and stood up. "Right," he said to Harry, one eye on the group of Death Eaters. "Let's go."

"Where?" asked Harry, confused.

"I don't know about you," whispered Snape, "but I don't want to be around when that lot realise what's happened. Okay?"

* * *

Once they had slipped out of the room, Harry followed Snape down a flight of stairs and back into another dark tunnel. Snape was moving as quickly as he could without jolting the girl in his arms. 

Once Snape was certain that they hadn't been followed, he set Sally down gently on the floor and knelt beside her. Harry ventured forward and asked the question he hadn't dared to ask before.

"Is she…?"

"No, she's not dead Potter. Not quite, anyway."

As if to confirm this, Sally made a wet rattling sound in her throat. A trickle of blood trailed down the side of her mouth. Snape began to administer some more drops from the vial.

"Why do you have blood replenishing potion with you?" asked Harry, suspicious.

Snape sneered derisively. "What do you think we do here, Potter? Let's just say, it comes in useful once in a while." He took out his wand and began muttering spells; now concentrating on the stab wound itself.

Harry sat watching, curled up against the wall.

* * *

After a few minutes, Snape put his wand in his pocket and sat beside Harry. "That'll do for the moment, but we can't move her again until she's a bit more stable," he said. 

Harry nodded. It occurred to him that this was the longest that Snape had ever gone without making a snide comment towards him.

Snape turned to Harry. "So tell me," he said, "what happened exactly?"

Harry described the events in the hall, up to and including Sally's attempted suicide.

Snape nodded, solemnly.

"She has a strong character. I had noticed that, of course, but fighting the Imperius curse – especially that of Voldemort – well, that's commendable to say the least."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You had noticed that? What do you mean you had noticed that? When did you get a chance to notice that?"

"I got to know her over the last few weeks," said Snape. "She got lost in the dungeons quite a while ago and I gave her directions. A few days later she came back. She had become curious about the art of potion making and asked me if she could watch. While you were at lessons, she would come down, and if I wasn't teaching she would help me with little things – chopping ingredients, labelling and so forth – and we would talk."

Harry turned, his eyes ablaze with fury. "I knew that you were trying to find out about her, I just knew it! What was it, a little inside information for Voldemort?"

Snape glared at Harry. "Don't you dare speak to me like that Potter! Not that it's any of your business – but I saw a spark in her that I haven't seen in any of my students for some time. I regretted not being able to teach her the craft – she would have been very talented at it."

"Don't even try it!" said Harry. "It's well known that you hate anyone that isn't a pure blood, let alone Muggles. You're a bloody Death Eater!"

Snape sneered. "The legendary Potter arrogance rears its ugly head once again. One of these days you're going to learn that life isn't as simple as you have been led to believe. If I really hated Muggles, why would I be here now? I had every right to leave her to bleed to death."

Harry was about to shout back a retort, but stopped as he realised that what Snape had just said had a ring of truth to it. "Why do you hate Gryffindors then? It's because they aren't all pure bloods like Slytherins," he tried weakly, aware that he was probably going to lose the argument.

Snape tutted. "Just because I dislike you and your little friends, you assume that I hate all Gryffindors. I am indifferent to Gryffindors. As I am to Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I dislike you because the self importance and flagrant disregard for authority that was so apparent in your father seems to have almost been distilled in you. Your sidekicks just serve to emphasise that, especially Granger. She is too clever for her own good."

Harry's felt another rush of anger flare up. "You can't hold it against Hermione that she's clever! In the same way that you can't hold it against me that you didn't like my dad!"

Snape waved his hand in the air. "I am not going to have this argument with someone who has such infantile thinking."

Harry turned away and seethed.

* * *

Harry wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until he woke up with a jolt. Sally was going into violent spasms. Snape got up in alarm. 

"She's gone into shock," he said, pulling out his wand. "Talk to her."

"What?" said Harry, still half asleep.

Snape sighed, exasperated. "Try and get her to focus on your voice."

Harry got up and went to Sally's side. "Sal, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can."

The hand that Harry was holding remained limp. Snape motioned to Harry to carry on, while furiously performing spells on the girl.

"Remember I said I was going to take you to Diagon Alley over Christmas?" said Harry. "You'll love it there. There are so many shops – Madam Malkin's sells robes, you'd like that, and Florean Fortescue does the best sundaes ever, and we'd have to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies since you like flying so much. In fact, if you get through this I'll let you have a go on my Firebolt – it's so much better than Ron's Cleansweep Eleven, although Charlie says it's on its way out because of the new Nimbus 2002. Charlie is Ron's older brother – my God, there are so many people you haven't met yet! You should meet the Weasleys, Mr Weasley would love you, he'd spend all day asking about televisions and washing machines, and you would really get on with Fred and George, they're hilarious. They would love you as well. Everyone would love you, like…like I do. Come on Sal, you can't leave me now, not now, not after everything."

Almost imperceptibly, Harry felt Sally squeeze his hand.

He looked up, and saw that her eyes were open and that she was looking at him. As he began to speak once again, her eyes became unfocused and her hand fell limp.

"NO!" screamed Harry, grabbing her by the shoulders.

Snape pushed him away roughly, the potion master's own voice becoming more agitated as he continued to chant spells. Finally he grabbed her wrist to take a pulse. He said nothing, but Harry could tell from the look on his face that he couldn't find one.

Snape stepped back and pointed his wand directly at Sally's heart.

"RESTITUO PECTUS!" he roared.

He leaned forward once again to take her pulse. Harry watched his face anxiously for any sign of expression.

Snape dropped her wrist, sighed and leant against the wall, his hand over his eyes. Slowly, he nodded. "She's back."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and promptly vomited all over the floor.

* * *

After a few hours, Snape decided that Sally could be moved. He levitated her in front of himself, and Harry followed him out of the tunnel. They walked straight out into the grounds of the castle, Snape counting each step they took. 

"Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred. Right, we're past the anti-apparition wards. Hold on to me."

Harry was too dazed and tired to care that he was clutching onto the man he had hated for the past six years. Before he knew it, several arms were stretched out, hugging him.

He was safe. He was home.

* * *

A/N: Not much left to go now! Thanks to everyone who reviewed:

**Rubber-duckiesofdoom**: You are so incredibly sweet! I'm not sure, maybe it was Monty Python, I just happen to know the song. Glad you liked the monologue, it was quite fun to write!

**Emma Barrows**: Thanks for sticking with it!

**Jamie Prongs**: I was actually quite hoping that someone would react in the way you did, so I'm glad it came as a surprise! Thanks!

**Junomalabre**: YAY! You're back! My lovely beta! Mwah!

**Amanda**: I'm trying, I'm trying: )


	15. Fated

**Fated**

"Getting a sense of déjà vu, aren't you?" said Neil, gesturing to the bed where Sally was lying, asleep.

Harry nodded. After Snape had brought him back to Hogwarts, there had been pandemonium. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that exposure to an Unforgivable Curse required a full day in bed, which meant that Harry had witnessed the arrival of Neil and Susan – who had taken the news that their daughter had stabbed herself rather well, considering – and the casting of several complicated spells on the girl in order to bring her back to a stable condition.

Finally, an exhausted Madam Pomfrey had declared that Sally was going to be fine, and that she would wake up in her own time. As well as Sally's parents, Snape and Dumbledore had decided to wait until that happened.

News of Harry and Sally's disappearance and subsequent return had spread through the school like wildfire, and a pile of cards and confectionery was slowly mounting on the dresser between their beds. Ron and Hermione had spent most of the day with Harry, only leaving when they were satisfied that he wasn't going to disappear again.

Sally's eyelids fluttered. There was a flurry of activity as everyone crowded round have bed to watch her slowly open her eyes.

There was a moment of silence as Sally tried to work out where she was.

"Am I dead?" she croaked.

Five voices immediately answered in the negative.

"Oh, okay," she breathed, closing her eyes once again.

* * *

By the next morning, Sally was more awake and coherent, although very tired. Once she was feeling more refreshed, she started asking questions. 

"I remember everything that happened up to…the stuff with the knife, but after that it's all a bit of a blank. What happened?"

Snape described the events in the underground tunnel and their return to Hogwarts, being careful not to go in to too much detail.

"But wait," said Sally, realisation dawning, "if I didn't die, doesn't that mean that Voldemort's still alive?"

There was an awkward silence. Dumbledore stepped forward.

"You did die my dear," he said.

Sally stared at him. "What?"

Dumbledore began to answer, but Snape interrupted him.

"You stopped breathing and your heart stopped beating. Clinically you were dead. I managed to resuscitate you."

Sally nodded slowly, trying to process this information.

"What happened to Voldemort?" she asked, quietly.

Dumbledore spoke once again. "His followers, it seems, had assumed he was already dead and were trying to leave the castle. However, Snape managed to lead the Ministry of Magic there before too many got away, and most have been arrested. Voldemort's body has now been cremated. Twice. "

Everyone looked to Sally for a response, but she was staring straight ahead. Dumbledore sat on her bed.

"You've been very brave," he said. "You have no idea what this means for the magical community. You're going to be a national hero!"

Sally looked over to her mother. "Mum, can you get everyone to go? I want to be alone for a bit."

Susan sighed. "Of course sweetheart."

Sally gave each of her parents a hug and a kiss, and then lay down and turned to face the wall.

* * *

Harry, who had left the hospital wing that morning with strict orders to 'take it easy', entered the room a couple of hours later. Sally was still lying as her parents, Snape and Dumbledore had left her. 

Harry sat down beside the bed. "Hi," he said.

"Hey," replied Sally, still facing the wall.

"You know," continued Harry, undeterred, "you are going to be so famous. Professor Dumbledore said that Fudge thinks you'll get the Order of Merlin First Class, although Fudge is such an imbecile I'm surprised he's even prepared to accept that you exist without written proof and DNA testing and photographic evidence and…"

"Did you know that I died?" asked Sally, turning towards him.

Harry stopped, taken aback by the question. He nodded. "Yeah, I knew. I was there."

Sally shrugged. "I don't know why I'm so shocked. I mean, that was the whole plan wasn't it? It's just – I suppose I wouldn't have done it if I had thought about it. Well I did think about it, but it was more of a single thought. Sort of 'Move arm up, and then swing rapidly downwards.' If Voldemort hadn't been in my head, it may have occurred to me that if I killed myself I would be dead."

"It was meant to be me," said Harry.

Sally sat up. "What?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Before I was born, it was prophesised that I was the only person who could defeat Voldemort. That's why he wanted to get rid of me, that's why he tried to kill me. And yet all that time, it wasn't true. It can't have been, because the person who defeated him was you."

"I suppose it just goes to show that prophecies are just bollocks," said Sally, smiling for the first time that day.

"Oh my God," said Harry, his eyes widening. "Your birthday is the day before mine."

"And..." said Sally, bemused.

Harry began to speak the words that had been etched on his brain since the first time he had heard them.

_" The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ..."_

Harry began to count them off on his fingers.

"Born to those who have thrice defied him – Voldemort tried to kill your mother three times and never managed it. Born as the seventh month dies – your birthday is the thirtieth of July. The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal – the runes all over you. He will have power the Dark Lord knows not – you fought the Imperius curse, he would have never thought that you could do that, never! Either must die at the hand of the other…"

Sally stopped him. "You've forgotten one, quite important, point. I'm not male."

Harry shook his head, as if this was a mere insignificance. "It still stands that you are the person who killed Voldemort, and that the prophecy about the person who was going to kill Voldemort fits you almost perfectly."

As Sally began to speak again, Dumbledore entered the hospital wing. "Now Sally," he said, "I know that this is an inconvenience, but the Minister for Magic wants to…"

"Could the prophecy be about her?" said Harry, not letting him finish the sentence.

Sally expected the headmaster to be confused at the sudden outburst, but instead Dumbledore simply bowed his head. "I underestimated you, Harry," he said, taking a seat. "I thought it would take a few more days for you to start wondering. Yes, it is almost certain that the prophecy made in 1979 by Sybill Trelawney was in fact about Sally."

"But it says 'he' all the way through," ventured Sally. "It's clearly talking about a boy."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Even with prophecies," he said, "there is a certain amount of convention. It stems from the time when 'he' was used as a generic pronoun, regardless of the gender of the person to whom it was referring…"

"So the prophecy could have been about a girl," said Harry, his anger rising. "In fact, it could have been about anyone! It didn't occur to you that the person in the prophecy may have been someone that no one had thought of did it? Instead you just narrow it down to me and Neville and completely ruin our lives. Look at Neville's parents – look at my parents! All because of a bloody prophecy that had NOTHING TO DO WITH US! AND WE JUST…"

"OH JUST SHUT UP!" shouted Sally.

Harry turned to her, still flushed from the effort of his outburst.

"You weren't the only person who was affected by Voldemort!" she continued. "You weren't the only person who was hurt by Voldemort! I DIED and I'm not throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old! Yes, mistakes were made, but people were just trying their best, and you act as though the whole world is against you. If you keep taking everything out on the people who care about you, well quite frankly they're going to just stop caring."

"Fine, well I'll just go then shall I?" said Harry, his tone barely disguising the hurt in his voice.

"Yeah, that's right!" retorted Sally "Go off and sulk, like you always do!"

Harry stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"Harry? Harry?" 

Scowling, Harry dragged himself to the door of his study bedroom. Outside stood Sally, swaying slightly. Harry's stubborn façade disappeared immediately.

"Sally! What are you doing out of bed?"

He guided her, weakly protesting, into a chair.

"I'm fine," she said, unconvincingly. "I snuck out when no one was watching. I had to come and see you. I'm so sorry that I had a go at you, you had a massive shock and I just made it worse and I just wanted to check that you weren't up here getting really upset and…I'm sorry."

Harry grinned. "I wasn't getting upset. I was just thinking…I have been a bit of a prat haven't I?"

"More of a diva," said Sally, smiling.

"Well I'm sorry for being a diva then."

"Hug?"

Harry obliged, careful not to hurt her. Suddenly, a thought struck him. There was something that he had wanted to tell her for the last few days, and this was his opportunity. He took a deep breath.

"You know," said Sally, crashing in on his thoughts, "of all the people that could have been there, it's a good thing it was Snape."

Harry shook his head, confused. "Why?"

"Well, since he's trained as a doctor and all…"

"What? He's trained as a doctor?"

"Not a doctor, he called it something else…"

"A Healer?"

"Yes, that was it. He had to give it up after the war with Voldemort started, but I don't know why."

_I could have a good guess_, thought Harry.

The moment had passed.

Harry decided he wait, and tell her at some other time. _After all_, he thought, _I don't want to ruin things, not now._

* * *

Only one chapter left! Sob I'm going to miss this fic….and you lovely reviewers… 

**Jamie Prongs**: I very much appreciate the thumbs : ) I don't know if I like Snape, but I think that he may be a bit nicer than we all assume.

**Juno malabre**: Us, me, it's all the same really. What would I have done without my lovely beta after all? And I'm pretty sure it wasn't originally from the lion king…

**Rubber-duckiesofdoom**: You read my mind actually! A sequel may well be happening…

**Star19**: Thanks! I liked that chapter too…

**benwa**: Ah, you see, I already had that all planned out…


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Eight years later…_

Harry was just drifting off to sleep as a drunken, raucous rendition of "She's getting married in the morning…" drifted through the door of his hotel room. _Must be a group of Sally's friends,_ he thought, pulling the duvet over his head.

Sally and Harry had been through a lot over the past eight years. She had been with him when Peter Pettigrew had been given the Dementors' Kiss, and when Sirius had been pardoned posthumously. He had helped her come to terms with the fact that she was directly related to one of the most evil wizards in history. And now…Harry felt that it was the end of an era, as well as a new beginning.

There was a knock at the door. Harry rolled over to look at the clock next to his bed. 1 AM. _Who could it possibly be at this hour? _He wondered, getting up to open the door. Standing outside, in her pyjamas, was Sally.

"Were you asleep?" she asked.

"No," Harry lied, moving out of the way so that she could enter the room. She flopped down on his bed.

"Shouldn't you be with your bridesmaids or something?" asked Harry, puzzled.

Sally waved her hands in the air. "They went out, but I thought I should really get some sleep, as it's my wedding day tomorrow."

"Shouldn't you be asleep then?"

"I tried, but then I started thinking about tomorrow and all the things that could go wrong and I thought I should talk to someone before I go out of my mind."

Harry sat down next to her on the bed. "Okay," he said, "what do you think could go wrong?"

Sally took a deep breath. "Well, the florists might not bring the flowers, or the caterers might no turn up, or it might rain, or the cake might get smashed, or they might forget to deliver the ice sculptures – wait, did I call the ice sculpture people to confirm? I didn't, did I? Oh bloody hell, why did I ever…"

"You did call the ice sculpture people. This morning. Several times."

Sally looked visibly relieved. "I did! I remember! You see, I am going mad."

Harry chuckled. "I've never seen you get this stressed about anything before. In fact, you're normally so laid back it's scary."

"It's true," she sighed. "I suppose I just want everything to be perfect."

Harry took her face in both hands. "Listen to me," he said. "Whatever happens tomorrow, even if the church roof falls in during the service, it will still be perfect."

Sally smiled. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," said Harry. "Feeling slightly less insane?"

Sally shifted into a more comfortable position. "Yeah – I just wish I didn't keep thinking that my dress had got up and walked out of the hotel."

Harry laughed. "Is it nice? I wish I could see it."

Sally wagged her finger at him. "You know the rules," she said. "Besides, no one has seen it, except for Mum of course. It's gorgeous, and I look halfway decent in it, which is a bonus."

"I'm sure you look fantastic."

"You would say that."

Sally got up off the bed. "I should go get some sleep, I have to be up at the crack of dawn to do makeup and hair and all manner of things."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight."

"Night."

* * *

The next morning was pandemonium, and before Harry knew it he was suited, booted and standing at the altar, with Ron next to him. He tried to catch Ron's eye, but the redhead was already watching the double doors at the other end of the church, waiting for them to open.

As the organ began to play the bridal march, the doors opened, and Sally entered on her father's arm.

She looked breathtaking.

The dress was a flowing creation of pure silk, with thin straps and intricate embroidery running down one side. Her long curly hair had been swept up, and was being held in place by a small band of pearls. In her hands she carried a trailing bouquet of white orchids.

Harry just had time to give her a quick smile, and received one in return as the service began.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered her today to witness the joining of Sally Angela Mason and Ronald Bilius Weasley…"

* * *

Since the demise of Voldemort, the wizard press had almost lost interest in The Boy-Who-Lived, and Sally (or in her own words, The Girl-Who-Not-Only-Lived-But-Got-The-Job-Done-Properly-And-With-Slightly-More-Panache,) had become the new media darling. She had gracefully accepted her rise to fame, and had used it as an opportunity to promote wider acceptance of Muggles and half-bloods in the wizarding community.

Anticipating widespread interest in the wedding, Sally and Ron had agreed to do a photo shoot for _Spellbound_, 'the glossy magazine for the cosmopolitan witch,' in return for absolute privacy for the rest of the day.

Once the ceremony was over, the photographer began to arrange the bride and groom, together with the best man and chief bridesmaid, as well as the ushers and bridesmaids. Harry was reminded of his first meeting with Rita Skeeter, as the photographer kept pulling him forward, much to the chagrin of the chief bridesmaid.

Sally, who was by this time used to photo shoots, was taking the whole thing in her stride. Ron, however, was looking visibly bored.

"Ron? Sweetheart? Look alive," said Sally, as the photographer went off to get another roll of film.

"I was just dazzled by your outstanding beauty," said Ron, grinning impishly. "In fact, I think it's unfair on all the men who will see these photos – they'll just go insane knowing that you're taken."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "If a man was reading Spellbound, it probably wouldn't be me that he was interested in."

"I try to compliment her and see what I get?" said Ron, tickling Sally's ribs and making her squeal. He turned to Harry. "You're lucky mate, stay single forever."

Harry laughed and shook his head. As Ron turned back to Sally, Harry sighed. "You're the lucky one," he said quietly.

* * *

Photos done, it was time for the reception. It had been a nightmare for the young couple to plan a reception that wouldn't cause too many awkward questions from the Muggle guests. Sally had agreed to the more subtle types of magic, (the fairy lights around the room were in fact real fairies), and Ron had picked out the Muggle songs that would appeal most to the wizards and witches, (although Sally had become convinced that he was just using eenie, meenie, miney, mo, after removing Marilyn Manson and Bob the Builder.)

Sitting in the middle of their wedding party at the top table in the large banquet hall, Sally and Ron began to receive congratulations from each of the many guests. Harry's heart sank as he saw a particular wedding guest approach the couple.

"The ceremony was very nice," said Snape to Sally, "although if I had to predict which of the Dynamic Duo you would have married I would probably have said Golden Boy here."

Sally laughed. "Now Severus, be nice."

Ron looked daggers at his ex-Potions teacher. "If anyone had told me that Severus Snape would be at my wedding…" he muttered through gritted teeth.

Harry patted his shoulder consolingly. "I know, I know." He looked over, and was glad to see that the conversation was winding down.

"Well you look lovely, anyway," said Snape.

"Thank you."

To Harry's relief, Snape then turned and walked away.

"See," said Sally, turning to Ron. "He's perfectly fine."

Ron smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.

Once all the guests were seated, the speeches began. After a short and rather amusing speech from Neil, it was Harry's turn.

Harry stood up. He didn't like public speaking, and had only agreed to do the traditional best man speech after a lot of pleading from both Sally and Ron. He cleared his throat.

"I've known Ron since we were kids," he began. "In fact, it's hard to believe that he is doing something as grown up as getting married. I mean, this is the same guy who accidentally made himself belch slugs when we were twelve."

There was a ripple of laughter.

"Seriously though, Sally and Ron are two of my best friends, and I think it's amazing that they found happiness with each other." Harry took a deep breath. "I love them both, and I can't think of anything that could be more perfect. I know that they are going to have a fantastic life together." He picked up his champagne glass and raised it in the air. "To the best friends I could ever have, and the best couple I could ever imagine."

The guests all raised their glasses, and Ron kissed Sally, to loud cheering and a round of applause.

Harry sat down, trying to ignore the lurch in his stomach.

* * *

Watching the people on the dance floor, Harry downed another glass of champagne.

"They make a cute couple, don't they," said a voice behind him.

Harry turned round to see Hermione standing behind him. She was still wearing the dark red dress donned by all the bridesmaids, although the matching wrap and bouquet seemed to have been discarded. She pulled out a chair and sat beside him.

"You're right, they do make a cute couple," said Harry. "It'll be you and Viktor soon."

Hermione laughed, unconsciously twisting the diamond ring on her left hand. "Oh don't. What with matches and tournaments and training and things, we're never actually going to set a date. Unless we get married on a Quidditch pitch."

Harry's eyes lit up. "That would be…."

He stopped, seeing the look on Hermione's face.

"Terrible, that would be absolutely terrible."

She smiled, but was clearly thinking about something else. She looked at Harry, almost questioningly. Slowly, he saw realisation flood her face.

"You're still in love with her," she said quietly.

Shocked that Hermione could see through him so completely, Harry decided to feign ignorance.

"In love with who?"

Hermione shook her head, disbelievingly. "All this time, you've been in love with her."

Harry looked down, uncomfortable. "Do you think Ron knows?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not only is Ron oblivious to…well… everything; if I know you, and I do, you never told him that you were in love with her in the first place."

"Yeah," said Harry. "It was never really the kind of thing we talked about. In fact, I'm surprised I ever told you."

"More to the point," said Hermione, "why did you never tell her?"

Harry shrugged. "It never seemed like the right time, and I always thought that I would tell her one day, when the moment was perfect, and then…"

"And then?"

"And then she fell in love with my best friend."

Harry looked over to where Sally and Ron were chatting animatedly with Neville and his girlfriend, Ron with his arm protectively around Sally's waist.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry said, bitterly. "Go up to them and casually announce that instead of being happy for them, this whole wedding is tearing me up inside?"

Hermione stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "You have to let go, that's what you have to do," she said, walking away.

By the time Sally reached the table where Harry was sitting, he was working his way through another glass of champagne.

"It was a gorgeous speech, thank you," she said, flopping down into a chair.

Harry just nodded.

"And thank you for letting me blow off some steam last night. I don't know what was wrong with me! It must have been the hormones."

Harry nodded again, and then stopped, puzzled. "Hormones?"

Sally clapped her hand over her mouth. "You can't tell anyone!" she said, looking around.

Slowly, Harry began to understand what she meant.

"You're pregnant?"

"Sssssh!" exclaimed Sally, waving her hands around to emphasise her point.

"Seriously?"

Realising that she was fighting a losing battle, Sally nodded and grinned.

"Why are you keeping it a secret?"

Sally grimaced. "Well, it's early days yet. Also, you know how traditional Molly is, she already thinks I'm 'that harlot that ensnared her baby boy,' I don't want her to think I'm 'that harlot that got herself in the family way in order to ensnare her baby boy'."

Harry smiled sympathetically. Although, as predicted, Arthur Weasley had immediately taken to the idea of having a Muggle in the family, Molly Weasley had been none too pleased when Ron had announced the engagement. Sally's exuberance and vivacity had come across as brashness to the Weasley matriarch, and it had rubbed salt into the wound of her youngest son leaving the nest.

"So when are you going to tell people?" asked Harry.

"In a few weeks. We think people will assume it's a honeymoon baby."

Looking up, Harry could see Ron sneaking up behind Sally. The redhead put his hands over her eyes.

"I just married you," said Sally, laughing. "Do you really think I don't know what your hands look like?"

Admitting mock defeat, Ron swung into the chair next to Sally.

"Oh by the way," she said nonchalantly, "Harry knows."

Realising what she meant, Ron punched her lightly on the arm. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep it a secret!"

"Well he's not going to tell anyone! Are you?"

Harry mimed zipping his lips together.

"Good."

Standing up again, Ron stretched out his hand to help Sally up. "Right you," he said, "let's dance."

Giggling, Sally allowed herself to be lead back onto the dance floor.

Harry rolled his eyes as he watched them. _Well this complicates things_, he thought.

* * *

Although it was by far the slowest way to travel, Ron and Sally had decided to take a plane to their honeymoon destination – mainly because Ron wanted to try what he called "Muggle flying".

As the couple climbed into the car that was to take them to the airport, all the guests gathered around to see them off. Molly, after hugging her son tightly, stood a little to the side muttering "I don't see why they couldn't just portkey, perfectly good way of travelling, what do we really know about these aeroplanes anyway…"

Leaning into the car, Harry hugged Ron and gave Sally a swift kiss on the cheek. "Look after her," he said to Ron, patting his best friend on the back.

Ron put him arm around Sally's shoulders. "Don't worry, I will."

Pulling his head out of the car, Harry shut the door, and watched as it drove away. Ginny, who was standing next to him, tapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on," she said, "let's hit Diagon Alley. I'm going with some of the others."

Harry didn't answer.

"Harry," said Ginny impatiently, "Do you want to come or not? Are you ready to move on?"

Harry spoke, still looking into the distance.

"Yes. Yes, I think I am."

* * *

A/N: No! It's over! I will really miss this story! What are your opinions on Ron/Sally? I'm curious, so if you genuinely don't like it do say so! On the other hand, if you do like it please tell me, because I'm thinking of doing a few one-shot or short sequels, filling in the last eight years and going into what happened next. It's up to you! Yes? No? Maybe?

Thanks to everyone who has read this, especially those who have stuck with it from the beginning! One last set of reviews sob:

**Rubber-duckiesofdoom**: You are officially my new pet reviewer! Please keep going with the fic, it's really coming along!

**Jamie Prongs**: Well I'm glad I changed your opinion! Thank you for all the reviews, and for saying it was good ; ) !

**Juno malabre**: My baby! My darling beta! What can I say! Breaks down sobbing

**Emma Barrows**: Thank you! You are so lovely!

**Star19**: Glad you liked it!

**BlueMoonChild89**: Not the reaction you were expecting possibly… : )

**Musings-of-Apathy**: I like you! I hadn't actually thought of introducing yet more trials and tribulations for them, but now you've mentioned it….only kidding! I prefer to go for the less obvious – as you may have noticed.


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